Blood Lies
by November S
Summary: When Goku chose to stay in Otherworld, Gohan struggled to continue. What happens when a father denies his child? Something is coming for Son Gohan, can he be ready to face it? Lots of Piccolo, Goku, and Gohan action, but the others are around, too! Dark!
1. I Woke Up in A Dream Today

**Blood Lies** by November

Chapter One

"I Woke Up In a Dream Today"

Although not always his favorite chore, Gohan did sometimes enjoy the chance to get away from his mother and brother and go to the market. Feeding a couple of saiyajins—even young ones—could be very taxing on the grocery bill. Gohan's thick, black hair whipped and danced in the wind as he breezed easily through the early morning skies. Down below him were open lands dotted with few houses here and there, but as he flew over the ridge, the openness gave way to houses and tiny shops. Gohan quickly fell gracefully to the ground behind an old bakery and dusted himself off. Taking a deep, sweets filled breath, Gohan's mouth began to water at the luscious sent that assailed his sensitive Saiyajin senses.

_Mmm. Smells like Melonpan and...Oh. Anpan! Yummy!_ Gohan's eyes glazed over slightly at the very thought of the tasty Japanese yum yums. _Maybe I could slip into the bakery and buy a few treats to take home,_ Gohan thought, a silly smile plastering his face as he walked quickly around to the front of the store. Leaning against the window, Gohan saw so many colorful goodies that his salivation reached an all time high. Reaching for the door handle, Gohan stopped and shook his head, chuckling at himself. What did he think he was doing? Only Goku got away with buying things like these! Heck, it was Goku's genes that had caused Gohan to slip into a semi-trance at the first sniff!

Turning around quickly, Gohan pinched his nose until he reached the street where he continued on to the market. Glancing up at the sun, Gohan guessed it to be almost ten and knew that if he took too long, he would have to explain his tardiness to his mother. Gohan's smile faltered slightly at that thought and he sighed; Son Chichi could be a very hard woman to get along with, even though Gohan loved her dearly. With those thoughts came others that Gohan clamped down on quickly, urging his heart to simply ignore the horrible images that barraged his tender mind. Squeezing his dark eyes shut, Gohan took a few calming breaths before he reopened his eyes and realized that he stood in the middle of the market's door, blocking other shoppers. Jaw clenched and his heart pushed as far away as possible, Gohan entered the store with purpose in his strides.

DBZ

Chichi straightened up and pushed her dark bangs away from her increasingly sweaty brow. It was nice outside, but at the same time, the sun beating down relentlessly made it difficult to enjoy working. She had just finished up with the few weeds that littered her private garden when she noticed—to her most extreme annoyance—that Goten had yet again managed to escape his play area and was now sitting in a dark ring of mud. Narrowing her eyes, Chichi watched as the three year old happily grabbed handfuls of brown goop and squished it out between his tiny fingers. His round face was lit with blissful innocence as he happily added more mud to the now stained front of his outfit. Chichi shook her head and smiled sadly; he was so much like Goku.

Turning away from the demi-saiyajin, Chichi lifted her face to the sky and took a deep breath. In a few weeks would be the anniversary of the Cell Games and also the anniversary of Goku's death. It had been agreed that the day would be a reunion of sorts; the chance to stay in touch with all of those who missed Goku. How she missed Goku! Swallowing hard, Chichi stifled the strong urge to cry and rage at a man who ended up choosing death over his family. It didn't matter anyway, she thought as she made her way over to the bucket of water that had been set beside the house. She knew that no matter what happened in life, he would always be her Goku.

Reaching into the bucket, Chichi rinsed off her muddy hands and splashed water on her face and neck, still seeing a vision of her Goku, laughing in that boyish way that could make her smile all over. Even the times that they had argued, she could never remain angry with Goku; it was just impossible! Chichi shook her head and turned suddenly at the angry cry from across the garden. Goten had managed to get mud on his face and was now quite angry that he couldn't get it off. Chichi smiled and stepped over quickly to pick up the heavy child; Saiyajin were unique even at a young age.

"There, there, little Goten, Mommy will fix it!" Chichi cooed as she quickly rubbed away the dark mud smeared on his face. Goten smiled winningly at his mommy before his eyes drooped and a great yawn stretched across his face.

"I think we need to go inside and clean you up and then wait for Gohan to come home, neh? Gohan will be back in a little while and maybe while we wait we can read a story!" Chichi brushed at his black hair that stuck up at odd angles and once again thought of Goku. As she walked to the house, Chichi murmured softly to boy in her arms.

"You know, you are so much like your Papa, Goten," she said. "You have his big, innocent dark eyes and that hair that will just NEVER lie down." Chichi smiled. "Then again, Gohan-chan had that problem, too." Chichi pushed open the door to their small home and stepped softly in side, shutting the door.

DBZ

Gohan stood out away from the market and threw a small oval piece of metal at the ground and watched as it exploded with a dim 'pop.' When the dust cleared, a small, dome shaped building stood with a large emblem on the side which read 'Capsule Corp.' Gohan smiled and began loading his large amount of groceries into it. _Thank you, Bulma!_ He thought. Once done with loading the groceries, Gohan pressed a button on the outer edge of the dome; it made a 'poof' and disappeared back into the small capsule. Gohan pocketed the capsule and began walking away from the market, glad to be done with it, though unhappy about having to return home so quickly.

Nearing the city limits, Gohan glanced around wearily before he shot into the sky, thrilled by the feel of the wind blow against his young body and brush through his hair. He drew his arms out perpendicular to his sides and shut his onyx eyes, ecstasy written over his face by the intimate feel of the warm wind. The wind touched him and brushed against him in a personal, welcoming kind of way that almost made him blush. This ability was one good thing that fighting wars brought. Quick on the heels of that thought were vivid images of his friends and family beaten and bruised, of Cell's mocking face and his father's last few words to him.

Gohan's eyes snapped open and he dropped suddenly to the forest below. His heart raced and his breathing came in short, desperate gasps. He crushed through the canopy of the trees and landed rather rough on the hard ground before he stumbled and sat down hard on his behind. To Gohan's absolute horror, the visions continued, defying his desperate attempts to grasp them and stuff them back down into the place they had risen from. His vision blurred as angry, frustrated tears began to slide helplessly down the curve of his cheeks and his throat constricted painfully, allowing a strangled cry through. Attempting to gain some kind of control over his emotions, Gohan reached into the sash of his Piccolo-style gi and pulled out a small metal container about an inch wide, an inch and a half long, and probably a half inch deep. His hands trembled so severely that it was all Gohan could do not to drop the tiny thing, but he finally got it open, revealing a thin, shiny piece of metal. The teen tipped it out of the container and with his teeth franticly tugged off the dark wrist weight around his left wrist.

Groaning as more visions assaulted his tender mind, Gohan brought the sharp edge of the razor against his young skin and slowly cut open the flesh. Gohan watched as bright red blood leaked slowly from the thin cut. As more and more blood flowed freely, Gohan's trembling began to stop and the visions seemed to drain from his thoughts as the blood drained its way down his arm and dripped into a dark puddle on the ground. Instead of the feeling of being out of control and frightened, Gohan began to feel his control fall into place as he watched his self-inflicted wound bleed away his fear and anger. Gohan's face shone brightly with the awe of his own blood. This was his ability. This was his gift to himself; being able to wipe away the traces of anger and fear that stalked him in both his waking and sleeping hours by bringing forth this delicious escape.

After a few moments, the bleeding ebbed and the dripping stopped. Gohan spat on his fingers and rubbed away any trace of the blood from his arm before carefully putting the wrist weight back on, effectively covering up the evidence of the cut. He carefully placed the blade back into its case, the scholar in Gohan reminding himself that he must clean the blade when he got home. Standing, Gohan kicked roughly at the dark circle of his own blood and covered it up with dirt before taking a calming breath and rising back up into the sky and heading for home.

DBZ

Cursing under her breath, Briefs Bulma grabbed the screw driver off of the floor and began to unscrew the last screw. Muttering the entire time at the vision of the Saiyajin Prince in her mind, Bulma jerked the cover of the panel off of the wall and set it to the side. "I'll make him think 'Saiyajin Prince,'" she muttered darkly. She finally sighed in irritation as she viewed the shorted wires and the burn marks visible all over the once colorful wires hidden behind the panel.

The gravity room was stifling hot because of the damage done to the circuitry, and the sweat running down the side of her face made her even more irritable than when her mate told her that he had once again managed to destroy something else. "That damn man!" she growled. "I swear one of these days I'm going to just—"But what she would eventually do to her mate was cute off as the shrieking of her son rang throughout the domed chamber. Bulma lost her balance and landed on her behind in fright and turning quickly, saw her son running as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Trunks!" Bulma shouted. The four year old came to a stop directly in front of her, the aggressive smile on his face causing her eyes to narrow as she assessed her small son. "Trunks, what have you done…"

"It's nothing that you need to interfere with; I will deal with the brat." Bulma looked up and saw her mate, Vegeta, standing in the doorway, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest. Bulma's heart fluttered ever so slightly at the sight as she narrowed her blue eyes at the Saiyajin Prince. "And just what is it that you think you will be 'dealing' with your son over?" she questioned.

Vegeta strode quickly into the room and stood over Bulma, smirking at the little purple headed child cowering behind her. "We are just experiencing…" he began slowly, taking time to smirk casually at them both before he went on. "What you would call, father/son bonding," he finished sarcastically. Trunks shivered at the note of warning in his father's voice. Bulma raised her eyebrow at the man before turning and taking in Trunks's face.

"Trunks, do you remember me telling you not to bother your father?" she asked slowly. "He's a grump, remember?" Vegeta snorted. Trunks's features lit in a smirk that would rival his fathers. He laughed and glanced back up at Vegeta before swallowing his laugh with a gag. Vegeta reached down and grabbed hold of his son with an evil, menacing look on his face. The little boy squealed in terror and tried to wiggle free from the powerful grip.

"Mommy!" he squeaked franticly. Bulma shook her head sadly.

"I'm sorry Trunks, but you got yourself into this mess, you have to get yourself out," she said, trying not to sound too sad. All of the color drained completely out of the child's face as his father carried him—kicking and wiggling—out of the chamber and out of sight. Only when they were completely out of sight, did Bulma finally give in to the laughter in the back of her throat. Those two could be so much fun! Vegeta new better than to actually do his child harm, but Bulma knew from the small gleam in his eyes and the barely visible wink that he had given her that he would do nothing more than scare the bejeezes out of the little boy. Shaking her head, Bulma returned to the task at hand, reaching forward and clipping off the burned pieces of wire before tying in new wires. _Blast him; I'll get even with him later,_ she thought, the prospect making her shudder in anticipation.

To be continued...

_Well,_ _there you have the beginning of my Gohan fic. I'm trying to make it quite dark, so get ready. 5/2009_


	2. Fear Is How I Fall

Blood Lies

Chapter Two

"Fear Is How I Fall"

"YAAAAA!" Gohan yelled as he threw another ki blast at his opponent. The man merely stepped to the side before phasing out and then back in directly behind the young demi-Saiyajin. Piccolo landed a punch directly to the youngster's back, sending Gohan rocketing down a few feet before he could catch himself. Turning quickly, Gohan shot back up to his mentor and threw punches and kicks, landing very few before an open handed slap brought him up short.

Gasping, Gohan dropped away, holding up his hands in a signal to take a moment. Piccolo frowned and crossed his arms in annoyance. Gohan bent over in mid-air and breathed deep, trying to collect his mind from where it had been scattered. "Man, Piccolo, that hurt!" he whined. Piccolo growled and uncrossed his arms, drifting a tad bit closer.

"Stop that, Gohan, whining hurts my ears," he reprimanded, his voice deep and his words clipped. "Besides, the idea is that you don't get hit and it won't hurt, remember?"

Gohan straightened to glare at his friend before falling into a fighting stance. Piccolo smirked and followed suite, barely dodging a hard kick at his head. Gohan flew forward quickly and let loose with a volley of punches—which his former sensei blocked—before grasping Piccolo's wrist and judo-flipping the tall Namekian. But Piccolo returned the grip and swung Gohan around quickly, before he released him. Gohan groaned as he slammed into a thick ring of boulders. Piccolo narrowed his eyes as the dust cleared, before Gohan shot back up into the air and flashed gold with a strangled cry. Piccolo was taken by surprise as the demi-Saiyajin let loose with an animalistic cry and charged, his Super Saiyajin form gold and crackling with energy.

Piccolo gritted his teeth and blocked a few strikes before landing a hard punch on his former student's cheek. Gohan returned with a knee to Piccolo's gut which double Piccolo over just enough for Gohan to clasp his hands together and slam them into the older man's back, sending the tall man rocketing toward the ground. Piccolo landed heavily, but quickly caught himself and shot back up into the sky, meeting with Gohan again. The two seemed to become one large ball of fists and feet which lasted for a moment until Piccolo, spying an opening, grabbed the boy's wrist and threw him away before surprising him with a large beam shot from his open palm. The blast hit its mark and Gohan dropped to the ground and landed with a dull thud. Piccolo frowned and drifted slowly to the ground below. _He should have been able to block that,_ he thought to himself, noticing that Gohan had seemed to flinch painfully as he had grabbed the boy's wrist.

Gohan's wrist was throbbing as one of his more resent cuts had been savagely ripped open by that last flip. He rolled over onto his knees before sitting back onto his behind, his right hand automatically gripping his left wrist; his wrist weight had been burned off along with a great portion of the fabric that had covered his teenage chest. Piccolo touched down onto the ground beside him, his fathomless eyes taking in every aspect of his former student. Piccolo's eyes narrowed at the feeling of alarm radiating off of the dark headed demi-Saiyajin. Gohan had never been any good at hiding his emotions, much less hiding them from the former Demon King.

"Did you hurt your wrist?" he asked. Gohan looked up, quickly blocking their link and cloaking his eyes.

"Yeah, stupid me, I accidentally tripped over Goten yesterday and sliced my arm on a tree when a fell," Gohan said, an ironic grin coloring his face as he gazed up at the man who was half raising him. Piccolo nodded, taking in the lie as if it were truth. Reaching down, Piccolo grasped the boy's arm and helped him stand. Gohan dusted himself off before smiling at his mentor.

"Ahhh! Piccolo, I'm beat and it's getting close to supper time, you know?" Gohan asked, looking up the dimming sky. His mother would be looking for him before too long and Gohan didn't want to disappoint her. As if sensing Gohan's thought process, his stomach rumbled loudly. Gohan colored slightly before laughing and setting a hand to his trim waist. Gohan smiled up at his mentor and tipped his head to the side, making him look extremely young and very much like his father.

"I swear that is all you ever think about sometimes, kid," Piccolo smirked and shook his head, amazed at how young Gohan still was. fourteen, right? Piccolo's forehead wrinkled in thought as he looked at his student.

"You're fourteen now, aren't you, Gohan?" he asked. Gohan's face lit up and he smiled again.

"Hai! I'm surprised that you remembered, Piccolo," Gohan said. He tipped his head to the side again and smiled up at the tall man.

"This will be the third year since the Cell Games," Piccolo thought aloud, turning and glancing at the sunset. Gohan's face changed as his mentor turned away; his eyes dimmed and he paled considerably, a thick, heavy feeling of fear and anger dropped into his gut and a dangerous need ran though his body. Gohan tasted blood and suddenly realized that he had bitten his lip accidentally; he stared at the ground, hoping to control his feelings before they were picked up by the Namekian.

"Yeah, well, I've got to go, Piccolo. Thanks for the spar!" Piccolo turned back to Gohan and nodded in agreement, looking into Gohan's eyes a moment before the boy shifted and rose into the air.

"Gohan, wait," Piccolo said. Gohan froze in mid-air and felt his heart drop to somewhere near his toes. Slowly he turned around to face his mentor, dreading something unknown. Piccolo held up his hand and leveled it at Gohan. Gohan felt an odd sensation come over his body as his gi was repaired and his wrist weights returned; once again, Gohan was dressed in a replica of Piccolo's gi. Gohan smiled his thanks, even though it was a forced smile, and quickly sped through the sky, headed for his home.

Piccolo stood looking after him a moment, thoughts racing through his mind as he mentally recapped the events of the day's spar. Piccolo's eyes narrowed dangerously. _ I don't know what it is that you're hiding, kid, but I have a feeling I'm not going to like it when I find out._

~DBZ~

Wandering into the kitchen at six in the morning, Bulma blindly found her coffee cup and thanked Kami again for the programmable coffee maker. She switched on the little television set and carefully poured herself a cup of strong morning coffee adding creamer and a slight bit of sugar to accent the flavor. As she yawned and slipped two slices of bread into a toaster, a broadcast on the morning news caught her attention.

"_An area of Lower East City exploded just a half hour ago, leveling two blocks in an instant. No witnesses have come forward at this time, but police say that a bomb has not been recovered yet. Those who were near the scene say that there was a bright flash of light followed by the loud explosion. We'll keep you posted if there are any changes."_

Bulma plopped down on a kitchen stool and regarded the television wearily, even though the newscaster had gone on to some story of a dog that had been found with a second head growing from its neck. Sipping her coffee carefully, Bulma narrowed her eyes and wondered if perhaps Vegeta had sensed anything odd this morning. She had woken up alone this morning, which really wasn't too out of the ordinary; sometimes Vegeta just needed to be up and doing something—normally training—but there were a few times that Bulma had found him sitting on the roof very early in the morning. When she had asked what he was doing, he had snapped at her that she should mind her own business—and then had ordered her to sit down. He had confided that he could remember watching the sun rise when he was young.

"It was a time that all Saiyajin's were taught was a special time," he said quietly. "It was a time to contemplate the next move and to prepare one's self mentally for the wars ahead." Bulma had looked at him in the dim light and saw something in his strong, chiseled features that she had never seen before: he looked content. Bulma had scooted closer to him, careful not to go tumbling head first off of the roof, and leaned her head hesitantly against his shoulder.

"Tell me more of what you remember from your childhood," she asked her voice soft and low. Vegeta had turned to regard her sharply before his dark eyes shifted back to gaze at the brilliantly rising sun. Bulma waited for him to speak, not sure weather to expect him to or not. She simply sat there and enjoyed his flesh against her cheek and the smell of her Saiyajin Prince: musky and warm.

"It was not something that you would call childhood," he whispered. "Nothing like what you yap about constantly or what you insist is the proper way to raise the purple-headed brat. We were taught to fight and how to win. We did not play, we sparred." Bulma had noticed by then that his arm had risen to grasp her protectively. She thrilled at the very touch of this man and the things that went through her mind made her do something she rarely ever did: she blushed.

Vegeta had seemed to sense a tremor shoot through her and had shifted to catch her eye. What he saw made him smirk in that arrogant, all-knowing way of his and gently flick the end of her nose with a finger. "I thought I was the perverted one," he said, giving her a look that shot shivers up and down her spine. Bulma matched his wicked grin.

"You are, you animal, but you're just so damn hard to resist." Vegeta made a low growl in the back of his throat before he reached over, grabbed her up like she weighed nothing, and threw her over his shoulder. Bulma giggled and pounded on his back in mock terror as he flew off of the roof and carried her quickly back to the room they shared. Kicking open the door, Vegeta easily tossed her on their large bed and stood smirking at her.

"You haven't seen an animal…yet!" And with those last warning words, Vegeta had approached the bed with a dim glint in his eyes.

Bulma shook herself out of the memory, blushing at the mere thought of that wild, hunger driven night. Ah, how she enjoyed her Prince. Finished with her cup of coffee, Bulma set it in the sink and went in search of her mate.

~DBZ~

Vegeta growled low in the back of his throat as he reached for his power. The growl slowly became a cry of triumph as his long black hair glittered bright blond and his black eyes became orbs of teal green. Suddenly, he began to move, the power of Super Saiyajin making each of his senses quick and intense. Vegeta locked his mouth into a kind of half growl half smirk and continued practice sparring. About to execute a deadly flip, the gravity in the chamber clicked off and the door opened to reveal Bulma. Vegeta shouted in surprise and plummeted up, slamming into the ceiling before landing face-down on the floor. Damn gravity!

"Vegeta, there you are I've been look—what are you doing down there?" Bulma blinked in surprise at the sight of Vegeta sprawling on the floor, his head raised and glaring in her direction.

"Woman, what am I usually doing in here? I was training until your dumb fat butt turned off the gravity!" Vegeta had risen and now stood with his arms crossed, glaring at Bulma. Bulma rolled her eyes.

"Vegeta, did you feel anything odd this morning?" Vegeta ceased his glaring and turned to march out the door.

"You mean other than your ugly head laying on me?" He tossed over his shoulder. Bulma reached down, slid off her house shoe and threw it at the back of his head. The man calmly tipped his head to the side and allowed the shoe to fly harmlessly past him. Turning, he raised an eyebrow at his mate.

"Was that not the answer you needed?" He asked sarcastically. Bulma clenched her fists, her face turning red as expletives and other abuses began to swim in her head.

"Why you…" Bulma opened her mouth and the most fowl language known to man came pouring from her pretty mouth. Vegeta just smirked, a slight glint in his eyes. Bulma was a visual being and the words she hurled at her mate were quite…colorful, to say the least.

"…AND BURRY YOU SORRY CARCAS OUT IN THE BACK YARD!" Bulma clenched her fists again as she finished. Vegeta just raised an eyebrow again.

"Were you wanting something or were you just looking for a reason for me to…put you in your place?" Vegeta asked, his mouth twitching into a smirk. Bulma huffed and flounced past him to where her shoe lay.

"Lower East City had two blocks leveled earlier this morning, I was just wanting to know if you'd felt anything with those 'super sensitive senses 'of yours" Vegeta frowned.

"No, I felt nothing unusual this morning." Bulma bit her lip. _I wonder if it could possibly be something more sinister._ The thought alone caused her to shudder; she remembered the androids and the fact that their ki signatures were nonexistent. Could this be yet another threat to their home? The thought left Bulma worried.


	3. I Find I Can't Rely on Myself

Blood Lies

**Chapter Three**

"**I Find I Can't Rely On Myself"**

"Gohan," Chichi started as she walked out of the house a few days later, "Goten has been looking for you; I think he wants to play. Could you keep an eye on him for me while I finish supper?" Gohan shifted his position on his tree branch to look down at his mother. He had been reading a science book and had just finished the chapter on the inner workings of a volcano; very interesting stuff.

"Sure, Mom, I don't mind," Gohan answered before jumping easily from the branch and scooping up his little brother. Goten laughed and wiggled until he sat high up on his brother's shoulders. Gohan rose a few feet in the air and turned slowly around in a tight circle, allowing the little boy the chance to view the whole area.

"Do you like to fly, Saru?" Gohan asked, using his pet name for his little brother. It meant 'monkey' and Gohan thought it fit the little boy. Goten raised his small hands into the air and waved them around, happy to be in his brother's company. Gohan smiled slightly and wiggled around, allowing Goten to fall backwards a bit and then fly forward just as fast. Goten grabbed onto Gohan's long hair and tangled his chubby fists into the long locks, thrilled by the horse play.

"Ouch!" Gohan howled, flinching when Goten's fists tightened, drawing the hairs taught away from Gohan's head. Wincing, Gohan reached up and desperately tried to untangle the hairs from his brother's sweaty palms. Slowly, they drifted back to the ground where Gohan stood, both arms in the air and one eye closed in a silent grimace.

"Goten, that really hurts, you can't pull like that," Gohan said softly. Goten's hands released the little hairs and Gohan almost cried with relief. He quickly removed his little brother and tumbled him onto the ground before reaching up to rub at the abused spot on his head.

"Go'an!" The little boy said. Gohan chuckled at the way his little brother said his name. Reaching for the little boy, Gohan tickled his tummy and under his chin lovingly. Goten giggled and ran away, Gohan pretending to have a hard time catching up.

Watching the two of them through the window, Chichi smiled happily to herself. Her two boys seemed to be doing wonderfully. She had been rather worried when she first told Gohan that she was pregnant that he would be heartbroken; first he lost his father and then all too soon he would have to share his mother. Gohan handled it like he handled everything else that ever hit him: head on and with a certain amount of happiness. Chichi sighed, a niggling amount of worry pushing its way into her mind.

Maybe Gohan handled things a bit _too_ well. Chichi bit her lip at where her thoughts were taking her, but she knew logically that it was truth. Gohan had never really grieved; he just stood up, wiped his eyes, and took over the role he felt he should take. Chichi never heard him crying in the middle of the night like she did when he was younger; he never wanted to talk about his father, which alarmed Chichi greatly. In fact, if ever she brought up the teenager's father, Gohan became very quiet and reserved, his eyes taking on a peculiar glint. It frightened Chichi, but she wasn't sure who to confide this bit of information to.

The sound of a vehicle outside drew Chichi to the large window again. Bulma had just landed and was getting little Trunks out of the hover car; Goten shrieked happily and ran quickly to his best friend, while Gohan—much more calmly—hugged Bulma in greeting and stood talking to her. Bulma had phoned a few days ago and had mentioned the accident that she had seen on the news about the bombing; she had shared her concerns and fears that it could very well be an android that they had missed. Chichi had simply brushed it off and told her not to worry so much, but in reality, Chichi feared the same, even now. Bulma had come today to make sure that all of the food was settled and ready for the reunion in two weeks.

Having Saiyajin to feed along with a dozen other people took planning and accuracy, but to feed them all for four days took an act from heaven. As was the custom, everyone would bring necessary things and stay for a few days in Capsule homes that Bulma would supply.

The kitchen door burst open and two little boys tumbled through, a jumble of arms and legs that squawked and squealed happily; Bulma slowly stepped through the door and looked at Chichi with a frown and wide, concerned eyes. Chichi stopped short in her greeting.

"Bulma, what's wrong?" Chichi felt so shaken by the look on the older woman's face that she immediately tugged her to one of the wooden kitchen chairs and forced her to sit. Bulma looked out the window and finally, it clicked with Chichi that Gohan wasn't with them.

"Chichi, I greeted Gohan and asked how he was doing and if he was looking forward to the reunion and getting to see everyone and his face just…changed! He looked…vacant, Chichi! Is everything all right? I've never seen such a _disturbing_ look on Gohan's face before; it was scary watching his whole demeanor just…switch!" Chichi frowned in concern, making a mental note to discuss it with her son later that night. Meanwhile, she still didn't understand where her son was. As if reading her thoughts, Bulma continued.

"He looked off into the forest and then whispered something I couldn't understand and then said that he was just leaving. He said that he needed to go do something and that he would be back later and then he just…left." Chichi bit her lip and walked to the window, curious as to what was so important that her son needed to be gone so quickly without saying anything to her. Right then a crash from the living room caught the attention of both women who rushed into the other room.

"Ah, Twunks, you bwoke it!" Goten cried. They both sat in the middle of a pile of broken and splintered wood and Chichi's heart skipped a beat when she realized what it was. It was the little wooden chair that Goku had made for Gohan right before he had been taken by Piccolo. Chichi covered her mouth with her hand and a tear came to her eye as she saw ahead to Gohan's reaction; he would be so upset.

"Okay, you two," Bulma said. She strode forward and grabbed a child under each arm before she unceremoniously chunked them out the front door.

DBZ

Gohan ran through the dense trees; limbs and branches reached out to him, snatching at him, scratching and bruising him, but Gohan ran on, unaware and uncaring. How stupid had he been? The day had sneaked up on him and now, his world was slowly tilting into chaos. Bulma had innocently asked if he was looking forward to seeing everyone, and it was then that his mind had wrapped around the truth: two weeks away was the four year mark since the Cell Games, and also four years since his father had said goodbye. And now Gohan, the champion of that day, tore through the forest seeking release from the anger and panic climbing up his spine at the very thought of spending another day knowing that it was his own fault his father was not there. Flying had not even occurred to him; his body needed freedom and movement to pull his shattered mind back from the brink. Never in all of his short life had Gohan wanted to just run and run and never stop, never look back. Hell, Gohan did not even want to _go_ back, but some rational part of his mind had broken through and commanded his legs to stop moving. It had only partly worked, though, as Gohan tripped and rolled head first before coming to a stop on his back, staring up at the dark green leaves and fighting for every breath he took. Sitting up, he once again fought the sash on his gi for the small box that contained the one way that he could stop the angry thoughts and panic driven insanity. It was the only way that Gohan was sane.

As the cool metal touched his skin repeatedly, Gohan's mind began to tilt slowly back into place again and his nerves stopped burning. Watching the delicious, warm, red liquid, Gohan once again regained control of his emotions, stuffing them deep into a far corner of his heart. But although he felt better, Gohan had the alarming feeling that it would start over far too soon this time. It was too close to the surface this time and nothing Gohan did would cause it to stop for long. Tears raced down Gohan's cheeks as this realization dawned on him. What was he going to do? Miserable and very alone, Gohan curled onto his side, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to calm his tattered nerves. Dark crimson blood dripped slowly onto the ground beside him, drenching his gi.

This time, high in the heavens, a pair of eyes watched, and ached silently for the lost and lonely child. Nodding his head, the guardian held his head up and walked away from the edge of the Lookout. Sometimes there were more important things than sleep.

DBZ

Chichi wrung her hands with worry as she watched the stars begin to twinkle one by one. It had been hours since Gohan ran off and Chichi felt worried about her eldest son. What could make him just leave like that and then still be gone at this late time of day? Goten had gone to bed tearfully, only being cuddled by Chichi could calm the boy enough to allow him to drift off. He had never known a time when Gohan was not there.

Gohan had always been a good boy. He rarely ever disobeyed her which was why he had never really been punished. Oh, he had been grounded a time or two whenever he had skipped out on homework, but Gohan had never really required anything harsher. Chichi bit her lip and wondered if maybe she should call someone. Maybe Bulma would know what to do. No, after all, Gohan was a teenager, perhaps this was just one of those teenage things that Chichi had heard about. Gohan was in for a very rude awakening if it was. Chichi suddenly stood and began pacing in the kitchen.

_No! Gohan you will not act this way! I am your mother and I demand respect,_ she thought, her teeth clenched into a half-snarl. When that boy got home, she would make him so very sorry that he dared to make her worry!

DBZ

When next Gohan managed to slit his eyes, it was past nightfall. His right arm had gone to sleep from the position that he had been in, and his head was throbbing while his vision blurred slightly. Slowly, he sat up and when he did, he realized that the reason for all of these things was because he had bled too much. Swallowing, Gohan took a deep breath and rubbed his sleepy arm; his mouth felt as dry as cotton as did his eyes, but the front of his gi felt cold and wet. Gohan slowly glanced down and saw to his absolute horror that his whole chest was painted crimson. Groaning, Gohan realized that he was going to have to remove the top before he returned home. No doubt his mother would through a fit about that one!

_Oh no! Mom!_ Gohan thought franticly. Looking around, Gohan located his blade and its case before clumsily stuffing the blade back into its case while the case he returned safely to his sash. Slowly, Gohan attempted to stand, but couldn't get farther than his knees. _Drat! I think maybe I'll have to stay here till dawn._ The thought certainly did not thrill him, but he was sure it would infuriate his mother. The other problem that Gohan immediately saw was that if he went sauntering into his home without his top, the new cut across his rib cage would definitely catch someone's—most likely his mother's—eyes. Lying back, Gohan swallowed and prayed that the cut would be invisible by morning. Clutching his waist much in the same way again, the demi-Saiyajin shut his eyes and commanded his brain to sleep.

When next the teen slit open his eyes, he could see a dull bluish glow from where he lay. His arms ached and the scratch across his chest prickled uncomfortably, but the truly disgusting part was the blood that had covered his chest was now dry and crumbling from the fabric of his gi. His head still pulsed slightly, but nowhere near as bad as it had the first time he had woken up.

Gohan blinked several times and shifted his position until he realized that he was no longer laying in the middle of the forest floor, but rather, in an enclosure of some sort. The blue glow was the rays of the moon that showered the ground beyond him with comforting light. Carefully, he lifted his head before he followed with his body. Things were more pronounced and understandable from that angel, but he was still baffled as to how he came to be in what appeared to be a cave—if the roughly cut walls were any indication.

A sound near the mouth of the little cave caught his attention and he quietly swung his legs around to tuck under him, in case he needed to spring on something. His breathing leveled out and came in shallow breaths as a small shape inched its way slowly into the cavern. Slowly, Gohan tucked himself closer to the wall to the left of the entrance, positioning himself for the perfect ambush, if that were needed.

"Please, do not be alarmed," said a very young voice. As Gohan watched, a young girl, who looked to be about thirteen or fourteen floated into the room. She wore a pristine white dress that gathered at the waist and ended around her knees. Her hair was pale blond, almost white, while her eyes were a glittering, powder blue, with eyebrows and eyelashes the same unusual shade as her hair. Gohan frown as he reached forward to find her ki—and came up empty. She did not have a ki.

Alarmed, Gohan brought his fists up into the defensive. "Who are you? What do you want?" The girl android looked almost crestfallen, but straightened her shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

"My name is Bird," she answered. Her voice was musical it was so light. Gohan tightened his fists, his fingers curling more into themselves.

"And you are Son Gohan," she said quietly. He pale blue eyes lifted and raked over him, her entire stance non aggressive; she was not even defensive. Gohan narrowed his eyes, still not willing to drop his guard.

"So, you know who I am, congratulations. What do you want?" Bird kept her eyes on Gohan and moved farther into the cave, away from the opening.

"I want to know why you were bleeding," she answered. In a very girly, lady-like way, she brought her hands together, her elbows straight, to clasp in front of her dress. It was hilarious, but Gohan had a vision of the android being on a country stroll and asking another young man that question, one who had no idea about the danger of the innocent looking young girl.

"I cut myself," he answered evenly. He did not care what this creature knew. He raised his fists a bit higher as she approached him. "That's close enough, monster, tell me what you are doing here before I end your life!"

Bird stopped, almost stunned at the words. Her large eyes seemed to dampen as she dropped them to the ground between them.

"Looking for someone," she admitted softly. Gohan hunched his shoulders; the last person the androids had been looking for was his father. Even peaceful Android 16 had wanted his father dead.

"The man you are looking for has been dead for four years," he spat, his voice much more harsh than he had expected it to be. Bird looked strangely sad, but the emotion in her expressive eyes were not directed at herself, they were directed at him.

"I speak not of Son Goku," she said. Confused, Gohan lowered his guard slightly.

"Then who?" Bird slowly tilted her head to look out of the mouth of the cave.

"I do not remember."


	4. Nothing Seems To Go Away

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own them yet! I have been discussing this with my imaginary Gohan, and he said he would rather I had owned him, but sadly, he is imaginary and doesn't count!

Blood Lies

**Chapter Four**

"**Nothing Seems to Go Away"**

Chichi moved away from the window, annoyed with finding herself staring out of it for the fifteenth time that morning. With a sigh she dropped into one of the wooden chairs around her kitchen table and wrapped both hands around the lukewarm cup of coffee that sat there.

_Oh, Gohan, where are you?_ She thought. She reached up and rubbed gently at the skin under her left eye, wondering if there were as many wrinkles there that she thought there were. Her sleep last night had been…none existent. After she had gotten her youngest son to bed, she had dressed and slipped under the bed clothes just to be right back up again after ten minutes. She had decided, at about four in the morning, that to wear her nightgown to wonder around the house in was useless, so she had dressed and remained in the kitchen until the beginning light of the new day had filled her large window. She could fret and worry just as well in the kitchen as she could in bed, after all.

Suddenly, the need to work came over her and she jumped up and marched to the door, prepared to yank out any left over weeds in her garden. On the way out the door, she thought about what she was going to do once her eldest, disrespectful, disobedient son returned.

DBZ

"So, let me see if I have this right," Gohan started. He sat across from Bird, his legs dangling from either side of the branch he sat on. "You know you're looking for someone, but you're not sure who, and your only clue to this person is that he—it was a male, right?"

Bird nodded, her pale eyes riveted on Gohan.

"Your only clue is that this guy made you feel safe." Gohan raised an eyebrow at the android. Bird blinked a couple of times, slowly nodding her head again. Gohan tucked his hands behind his head and leaned back on the tree branch; he searched the sky for answers.

"How did you become an android?" he asked suddenly, turning to pin the pretend young lady with his black eyes.

"I do not remember. I remember Dr. Gero created me, but I do not remember why; or what my purpose was," she whispered. She perched primly on a large rock, across from where Gohan's tree was. They had moved out of the cave and into the open once the sunlight had begun filtering in.

"Do you remember anything else?"

"I can see two people," she whispered. She raised her eyes to the sky. "They are mere shadows, but these two people were…important. I just can not remember why." Silence reigned for a few moments.

"Why did you injure yourself?" she asked quietly. Gohan remained staring at the sky, but his mind turned to other things; things that made his heart pound in a painful rhythm.

"It's a long story," he whispered finally. He felt the words held more truth than he first realized; 'a long story' is what he felt he had been a part of for the last few years.

DBZ

Later, as the morning grew, Gohan realized that he would have to go home at some point. He bade farewell to his new friend, promised to return as soon as he was able, and lifted into the sky to head home. Although he felt exhausted, he felt more frustrated than anything. Bird's curious existence had bothered him, but being who he was, he wanted to help her; perhaps because she resembled something that needed help.

As Gohan approached his home, he groaned as he noticed that Bulma's aircraft was parked next to the house again. He sighed, not relishing the idea that there would be an audience for the tongue whipping he was about to receive. Of course, knowing Bulma, she would be there right along side his mother, verbally ripping him to shreds. He blanched as Vegeta's signature pulsed loud enough that he could pick it up. Gohan sighed again, this time wincing as he landed, preparing himself for this experience.

The front door was wrenched open before he could even cross the yard and his mother's black, irate eyes snapped as she flew through the doorway, murder on her face.

"Where have you _been_?" she demanded. She swung her right hand back and slapped him as hard as she could. Gohan blinked, shocked that his mother had slapped him.

"Ow," she murmured, cradling her right hand with her left momentarily before she continued. "How dare you leave for the whole night without one word as to where you were going or with whom? I was worried sick about you! I asked Bulma and Vegeta to come help me _find_ you!"

Chichi paused, her shoulders heaving and her face blushed from the force of her raised voice. Gohan glanced to the side as Bulma, followed by Vegeta, came through the door. Two young children peeked out from around their legs. Goten's smile lit up his face as he recognized his brother.

"Go'an!" he squealed as he darted out from behind Bulma's knees, headed straight for Gohan. Bulma caught the back of his shirt and tugged, bringing the wriggling little boy to sit on his bottom before she picked him up and held him tightly in her arms. Goten's little face turned about as red as his mother's face as he squirmed to be let down.

"Goten, be still!" Chichi commanded. Surprised at the harsh tone to her voice, the little boy's frantic movements stilled, his wide eyes on his big brother. Gohan's heart wrenched as he realized that he had not only worried his mother, but also his little brother.

"Mom," he started. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Save it, Gohan," his mother snapped. "I do not want to hear your apologies; I want to hear your explanation before you go." All of the color drained from Gohan's face as he heard his mother's words.

"Go?" he asked weakly. "Where am I going?"

"Tell me where you have been," Chichi demanded, her fists curled and planted on her hips. Gohan gulped.

"I went flying and fell through the trees," he admitted. He cleared his throat, knowing that the woman could tell that he was lying. He had only ever been able to lie to her about one thing…

"Even if I believed you—which I most certainly do no—why did you not ask me if you could go? Or even _tell_ me where you were going? I am your mother, Gohan, and you are supposed to respect me."

Gohan stood still, his eyes flickering back and forth between the three adults. His mother was still livid, while Bulma's lips were pursed. Vegeta just seemed to enjoy watching Chichi scream at Gohan.

"I'm sorry, Mom, I just didn't think about it," he said softly. He bit his lip and looked at his mother, unsure what he should say to her. Chichi growled low in the back of her throat as she turned and marched toward the doorway of the house. Bulma and Vegeta—with both kids in tow—moved out of her way as she strode through into the house, only to reappear a few seconds later, Gohan's satchel dangling from her fingers.

"Are you going to tell me the truth, Gohan?" She demanded. "Are you going to tell me where you've been?"

Stunned, Gohan eyed the bag in his mother's hand. _She's sending me away?_ He thought to himself. His heart thrummed steadily in his chest as he watched her. _I can't tell her the truth, but if I don't tell her something believable I think I'm done for._

"Are you—are you sending me away?" He asked. Chichi raised her chin, an action that Gohan knew meant she had decided on something that would be hard. It was the same look that she had had when he had to tell her that her husband would not return. It was the same look that she had worn when she found learned of the second child that she was expecting.

"I want the truth, Gohan. You had no right to worry me as you did, and I will not stand for it." Gohan swallowed hard, knowing that she would not back down and that he could not lie to her.

"Mom, I'm really sorry," he started, his voice rough. He hunched his shoulders, his right hand rubbing his left upper arm in contrition. "Honest, I didn't mean to make you worry, I just—needed to fly. I—" he stopped himself, worried by the lump that had taken up his esophagus.

"I had not realized that the…the reunion was so close," he finally stuttered out. His heart pounded blood through his veins, the sound loud and alarming in his ears, warning him that he was about to start shaking. He swallowed hard, desperate to go to his room and be left alone for a moment. He clenched his fists tightly, his fingernails biting into the flesh of his palms. The pain was not as freeing as the other, but it helped him to focus and push back the strong emotion that was steadily raising his ki level.

Vegeta's all seeing eyes seemed to bore through him, and he knew that the older Saiyajin caught the tautness of his knuckles, although he remained silent. Obviously, he noticed the raise in ki. Chichi seemed to deflate some at those words, he motherly compassion sensing when her child was hurting.

"Gohan, why didn't you just say something?" Chichi moved forward, concern etching her features. Gohan swallowed and shrugged, looking down at the ground between them. Chichi pursed her lips, unsure of her plan of action. Gohan stared at the dirt, awaiting his sentencing.

"I love you, Gohan, and I'm sorry you were upset, but I can't let you think that your feelings matter more than others." Chichi walked forward and touched Gohan's hand where it still rested against his other arm. "You will still go with Bulma for now. You are going with her to clean Capsule Corporation, but instead of you staying there, as was our original plan, you will come home tomorrow afternoon."

Speechless, Gohan accepted the bag that his mother pressed against his bare chest, and stood staring for a moment. Chichi met his gaze full in the eye—they were roughly the same height now.

"You are to obey Bulma, listen and do whatever she tells you to do. We will see you tomorrow evening; no later than eight o'clock," she reminded. Gohan blinked and flicked his gaze to Bulma.

"Yes ma'am," Gohan answered dutifully. Bulma set Goten down and the little boy shrieked and hurled himself at his brother, latching onto Gohan's legs. The teen slung his pack onto one shoulder before he leaned down and picked up the little boy.

"Go'an, you didn't come to sleep!" The child accused. Gohan smiled, the tension in his body easing slightly in the face of his brother's serious expression.

"I know and I'm sorry, Saru; I'll be home tomorrow night, though, okay?" Goten grinned, looking so much like their father that Gohan's heart throbbed against his rib cage.

"Tell me a stowy then, k?" he asked. Gohan smiled and kissed the top of his head.

"Sure, baby brother, I'll tell you a story tomorrow night." Gohan hugged his little body tightly and set him on the ground. "Love you, punk, be good for Mommy, okay?" Goten nodded, but was a bit unsure about his big brother leaving him.

Bulma had been silent throughout the exchange, but at Gohan's parting words, she stepped forward and touched Chichi's shoulder, her blue eyes sincere. "Don't worry, Chichi, he'll be back tomorrow."

Bulma turned and gestured for Gohan to get on the aircraft. Trunks, who had been completely silent, followed his mother, his eyes wide and confused. Vegeta rolled his eyes and drifted into the air a few feet.

"You can fly, Brat," he snapped at Gohan. Gohan accepted that for what it was: an order to get his butt in the air, not in Bulma's aircraft. He slipped the pack onto both shoulders, and without another glance at his mother, followed the Saiyajin Prince into the sky.

DBZ

"Oof!" Gohan moaned as he flew into the hard metal wall of Bulma's Gravity Room. He slid down to the cold tiled floor and winced at the new bruise he would sport on his cheek. He looked back up, his shoulders heaving with every breath as sweat trickled steadily down his spine, and locked eyes with the fully powered up Saiyajin Prince. He growled low in the back of his throat and hoisted himself up, reaching for his silently steady ki.

"So much for not fully powering up!" he shouted at the man. Vegeta smirked and narrowed his eyes.

"I lie," he explained simply.

_I noticed_, Gohan thought to himself, summoning the change. Gohan's breath whooshed out of him as his hair flashed a solid gold color, the ascended Saiyajin form thickening his muscles and heightening his senses. He dropped into a crouch, one that mirrored Piccolo, his teal eyes an open challenge to the older Saiyajin. Vegeta growled at the obvious insolence, and disappeared.

Gohan met him in the air, a loud boom echoed against the walls as the two collided. Gohan brought his knee up, attempting to catch the other man off guard, but Vegeta had sensed his intent and was ready. He blocked Gohan's knee with an open hand and shoved a small burst of ki into Gohan's bare chest. The ten hissed at the singe and drifted backwards, Vegeta following him.

"You should have been training!" Vegeta yelled, his gruff voice grating against Gohan.

"Shoulda," Gohan groaned, his fist landing heavily into Vegeta's abdomen.

"Woulda." Gohan kicked out, his foot connecting with Vegeta's shoulder.

"COULDA!" Gohan screamed as he bent both of his knees and stomped them both into Vegeta's chest, knocking the man's breath out and sending him into the other wall of the chamber. Gohan, his shoulders heaving, dropped to his feet on the Gravity Room floor, and extinguished his Super Saiyajin form. His eyebrows were drain tight as he watched Vegeta rise, an evil, vindictive glare on his face.

"Did I tell you that we were done?" He spat. Gohan, feeling the need to take out his irritation on something, shrugged his shoulders, giving Vegeta a haughty glance.

"No, but you kinda looked like you were," Gohan said, his voice sarcastic. Surprise flickered for a split second across the Prince's face before pure rage replaced it.

"I am not your friend, boy, do not make the mistake of toying with me," Vegeta warned. Gohan smirked, a look that mirrored Vegeta's from earlier, and again shrugged his shoulders; he knew the action annoyed the man.

"I'm well aware of what you are," the implications of that sentence hung, suspended, obscure, and dangerous in the air between them. Vegeta's features smoothed, out-right rage replaced with a calm hatred that boiled under the surface.

"Clever, boy; now let's find out what you are." With those words, Vegeta hurled a ki ball at him, which Gohan redirected into the wall, leaving a scorch mark on the metal. Gohan remained powered down as Vegeta rammed a fist directly into his kidney, making him scream. Gohan's vision blurred, but he sensed enough to bring his fists up to protect his face as Vegeta flung a powerful hit that glanced off of his wrists.

"What is it, child? Too tired to power up?" Vegeta taunted him. Gohan ignored his words as the man's fists connected with his stomach, doubling him over with pain. As the pain signals radiated along the lines of his nerves, and reported to his brain, Gohan smiled. It was a smile that was hurt and fulfilled, all in the same breath as blessed agony drove away his memories. Gohan's eyes opened in time to see Vegeta's white gloved fist aimed directly for his face, and he readily accepted it, even yearned for.

But it never landed.

Gohan opened his eyes, curious, and was alarmed to see Vegeta's fist a few inches away from his face, trembling as Vegeta breathed heavily. Vegeta and Gohan locked eyes, but Gohan could not read anything in the Prince's face to signal what it was the man was thinking. Suddenly, Vegeta dropped his fist, his black eyebrows pulled down low over his heavy eyes as he continued to stare through narrowed eyes at the teen that stood, breathing heavily before him.

"We're done here," he announced. He spun around and strode to the control panel, released the gravity and unlocked the door before he disappeared without a backwards glance.

Gohan remained where he stood, still shocked by the reaction, until his injured kidneys sent a jolt of pain that brought with it the blessed darkness of unconsciousness. The last thing he was aware of was the horrible crack that sounded in the domed room as his head slammed into the tiles.

DBZ

**And now, a word from your author: I have about fourteen chapters written, but because I detest the fact that so many writers eventually give up on their fics, I am going to keep my extreme advantage and continue on with this little baby. I have a bunch of things in store for these guys and hope everyone enjoys what I have planned! **

**Thanks so much for reading and please review! I would really like to thank those who have already reviewed; you know who you are! ^__^ Here's a honeycake for you!**

**~November**


	5. In The Middle Of My Thoughts

Blood Lies

**Chapter Five**

"**In The Middle of My Thoughts"**

"Was it absolutely necessary, Vegeta?" Bulma demanded, storming into her bedroom suite where her mate lounged, his eyes closed and his feet propped up on the arm of the couch. Unconcerned, Vegeta kept his eyes closed, deciding to ignore the screaming banshee his woman would eventually become. Bulma shrieked in frustration.

"Vegeta, you left him unconscious in the Gravity Room!" Vegeta heard her stomp one of her feet on the carpeted floor, but remained still anyway.

"He should have powered up," he said. He shifted his position, taking a deep breath. He heard Bulma's feet pad softly on the carpet before he felt the couch sink with her weight as she sat beside him. He scooted his hip over to make more room for her, rolling on to his side on the couch and tugging her down to lay beside him.

"He'll live," Vegeta retorted. Bulma sighed as Vegeta nuzzled her ear.

"Something is just not right, Vegeta; I can feel it," she whispered. Silently, Vegeta agreed, but it meant little to him as he reached his left arm up and over and smiled as she allowed his hand freedom.

DBZ

As Gohan entered the buildings of Capsule Corporation the next day, he marveled at how impressive the entire establishment was. The main entrance opened into a huge atrium, complete with a ceiling of solid glass that—according to Bulma—was roughly a foot thick, two receptionists to greet and direct clients, and four gold trimmed elevators, also with glass fronts. Bulma lead the way directly to the last elevator in the row and pressed the down arrow. Gohan knew that executive offices littered the top floors while the whole basement area along with the large east wing was reserved for experimentation and new doohickeys (as Mr. Briefs called them).

The elevator doors glided open and Bulma stepped on, followed by Gohan. She pressed the button to the right of the doors that had no diagram on it before she keyed in a code on the key pad.

"While you're here, Gohan, I'll give you your own code, but I hope I don't need to tell you how restricted this area is?" she raised an eyebrow at the teen beside her. Gohan smiled.

"Of course, Bulma!" Gohan was dressed in a pair of black casual pants with a dark blue shirt tucked smartly into the pants. It felt odd wearing dress shoes after wearing the soft shoes that were a part of Piccolo's gi for so long. It had been ages since he had worn any clothes other than his gi.

The elevator continued down until it slowed to a gradual stop. The bell dinged before the doors opened into a white lobby with one receptionist. The green haired woman rose, nodded her head, and pressed a button on her desk.

"Good morning, Ms. Briefs," she greeted Bulma. She gave Gohan a once over, but said nothing as they passed into the open double doors to the right of the receptionist's desk.

"That was Leda. She has been around for years and will be informed that you will be coming and going for now."

"Um, Bulma?" Gohan wrinkled his brow and looked at the woman he was following into a long perpendicular tube with strange appendages sticking out of the top, pointed down on them. They resembled shower heads. Bulma turned her attention to Gohan just as a blast of some white, moist cloud emitted from the shower heads and enveloped them in thick steam. Gohan choked, coughing as the little tube opened and they were aloud into a pristine, white lab, complete with various bottles of bubbling matter, contraptions in various stages, and people in bright white lab coats.

"Ugh, that stuff tasted nasty!" Gohan exclaimed, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth in annoyance. Bulma chuckled.

"You should have shut your mouth," she commented. She turned to her right and lead Gohan to a row of hooks that held identical white lab coats. She unhooked one and handed it to him before she donned her own and turned to him.

"What is it you were going to ask?" Gohan tugged on his coat and straightened it, meeting Bulma's blue eyes, his voice low.

"How long am I going to be working for you?" he asked. "Mom just mentioned today and tomorrow, but you make it sound as if I'll be coming more often than that." Bulma smiled.

"I'm sure that once you see some of the things that we are working on down here, you will want to come," she replied cryptically. Gohan sighed and followed her as she moved away, his eyes drinking in all of the different things he saw.

"Gohan, I would like you meet my right hand, Doctor Meer Sycor," Bulma announced, gesturing toward a middle aged man with a mostly bald head; what hair he did have was gray. His eyes were a watery blue that made Gohan think he had spent way too many hours hold up in the lab, staring at one project or another. "Sycor, I'd like you to meet Son Gohan, the son of a close friend of mine; he will be joining us now for a couple of days."

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Gohan said as he bowed at the waist. Sycor inclined his head in greeting, but remained silent. Bulma moved on. Next was a man with brown hair and brown eyes. He was tall, probably around Goku's height, with a pleasant face.

"Gohan, meet Lee Deban, second in command down here. Deban, Son Gohan: a new apprentice for you." Surprised, Gohan tilted his head to the side to look at Bulma's face as he bowed. "Gohan, you will report directly to Deban; he will assign you your clean up duties."

Before Gohan could respond, Bulma was off again. A young girl, not much older than he was, if she was older at all, stood beside a long counter, watching them. Bulma approached her.

"Gohan, this is Rejin Arale, she is your age and comes in for a couple of hours every day; she is one of Deban's apprentices, but she is also a student at Orange Star High school."

"Nice to meet you," Gohan said politely, tilting his head in a shallow bow. The girl nodded her head in response and continued with what she was doing before she was interrupted. Bulma was already off to the last occupant of the rooms, an older teen with spiky blond hair and sharp blue eyes.

"Son Gohan, Hoke Jesser," Bulma said, she seemed to be getting tired of introducing everyone. Gohan tilted his head again in greeting, which the other teen returned. Bulma turned to him.

"There's another young lady that works down here, but she is out at the moment; her name is Naran Seftee. She is also an apprentice." Bulma lifted her hands into the air and smiled. "Welcome to my world!"

Gohan smiled and shook his head at the older woman. Bulma ignored him and stepped over to Sycor.

"Sycor, I came for just a moment to bring Gohan down, but he is to be the clean up crew; he has gotten himself into some trouble with his mother and as a favor, I thought this might be a good way to straighten him out." Sycor narrowed his eyes at Gohan, but nodded his head and murmured something to Bulma. Gohan flushed pink with embarrassment as the other apprentices looked over at him, their mouth quirking into smiles.

_Great, now everyone knows that I got in trouble and as my punishment, I will be cleaning the lab's toilets_, he thought ruefully. _Thanks for that, Bulma_. But his father's friend paid him no mind as she moved back out of the lab, away from him. Sycor conferred with Deban for a moment before Deban approached Gohan, a grim smile on his face.

"Well, kid, it appears you have been turned into our cleaning boy for a punishment," he said, his voice light as he stopped beside Gohan. Gohan shrugged while his expression was rueful.

"Looks like," he agreed. Deban laughed and threw a hand on Gohan's shoulder, guiding him toward the back of the lab where a deep sink and stacks of glass containers Gohan could not name sat.

"Your first assignment is to clean all of these," Deban lifted one of the glass containers that looked as if it had some kind of sticky residue that resembled a soda. "And then sort and store them there." Deban pointed to a row of cabinets to the right of the sink. Then he clapped him on the back, handed him a pair of thick rubber gloves that went all of the way up to his elbows, and walked away.

DBZ

Later that night, Gohan sat on the domed top of Bulma's home with his knees drawn up to his chest. The stars blinked pleasantly at him, but Gohan could not capture the same happiness of the carefree stars and trap it for himself. He wondered what Bird was doing; worried that she would think that he had forgotten about her. He had promised to help her find the person she was looking for, but he did not have a clue how he was supposed to do that.

He sighed deeply, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of the razor he held between his fingers. He had pulled it out just as soon as he had climbed on the roof, but had not yet reached the point where he felt it was necessary. His heart thrummed in his chest, aching in an old, familiar way that had pursued him for four years. Miserable, he wanted to go home, but he knew that home held no relief from this constant pain. Sometimes he thought that death would surely be better than this.

Maybe that was what had compelled Goku to stay in the Otherworld. Gohan sucked in a breath as the agony came, complete with the vivid pictures of the Cell Games that haunted and tormented him; the one moment when his father looked back at him and spoke to him. He had known then that he had failed, and that it was his own fault. He knew that Goku would never forgive him. But he had hoped anyways.

Gohan squeezed his eyes shut, brought the razor against the skin of his stomach, and pressed down. A moan escaped his lips as blood beaded around the line that the razor had made, but the anguish of his failure still remained. His heart throbbed weakly in his chest, but the feeling brought a wave of suffering that scared him.

With a sob, he dropped the razor into his lap and hid his face in his hands. His soul twisted uncomfortably, while he mentally sobbed. Tears slipped down his cheeks, but they were too few to cleanse or renew the desperate gnawing that was eating him from the inside out.

DBZ

Miles away, under the canopy of uninhibited stars, someone responded to the mental cry that ripped across the shared bond. Without second thought, Piccolo straightened to his full height and shot into the sky, the sound barrier ripping apart as he hastened to his student's side.

Piccolo had wondered when he would receive the call that had just blazed into his consciousness. He knew that Gohan still struggled with Goku's decision, even though the child presented a healed face to anyone who looked, the former Demon King had seen enough of Gohan's emotions to recognize the signs.

_Took four years_, he thought to himself. With a grim look on his face, Piccolo followed the mental tie to Gohan, wondering vaguely what the kid was doing in Satan City. But as the teen appeared suddenly, curled around his knees atop of Bulma's domed home, Piccolo batted away the thought and gently touched down, his soft shoes barely making a sound.

"Gohan," Piccolo said quietly. The teen obviously had not noticed Piccolo's presence, because Piccolo's gruff voice startled him. Grimly, the green warrior watched as Gohan jerked his head up and wrapped his arms around his middle protectively; his dark eyes were dim and wet with tears.

"Piccolo," he gasped. He scrambled to his feet, and swiped at his face with the sleeve of his pajamas, trying to vainly erase the proof of his tears. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," he replied. He watched Gohan's face, curious if the teen would confide in him or not. He slowly knelt down before he crossed his legs and sat down easily on the roof, watching his student. Gohan carefully sat back down, bringing his knees back up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He watched Piccolo, almost as if he were worried Piccolo would strike out at him at any moment.

For the most part, Piccolo ignored it and looked up at the stars, thinking about all of the times, during the preparation for the Saiyajin, they had settled around the camp fire at night, looking at the stars. Gohan would ramble on and on until he finally talked himself to sleep, while Piccolo would sit silently, long after Gohan had fallen asleep, and think about the up coming battle.

Piccolo was not arrogant enough to deny that he cared for the child who had change his life; the child-just-barely-turned-teenager who sat across from him now, trying not to show the grief he believed to be a weakness. Still, even with both Nail and Kami fused permanently with him, he still did not have a clue what to say. So instead, he kept quiet, and waited for his precocious child to do that part. Furtively, Piccolo sent reassurance along their mental connection.

After an hour of silently sitting there, Gohan began to sway, sleep causing him to loose his ability to sit up. He would jerk himself upright, blink a couple of times, before his eyes would shut again and the whole thing would start over. He crept closer to Piccolo every time until finally, the last time that he almost toppled, Piccolo caught him and rested the teen's head against his thigh.

"Thanks, Piccolo-san," Gohan whispered. Piccolo looked down as Gohan sighed, his eyes drifting all of the way closed. "Thanks for being here."

_**Any time, Kid**_. The thought caressed Gohan's sleeping thoughts, calming him into a deeper sleep. Piccolo frowned as he prodded slightly at some of the thoughts that Gohan had bound away, and noticed that they flinched away, something raw and barely contained hidden within the depths. Concerned, Piccolo made a note to speak to his protégé about it before he lifted the slumbering boy into his arms and drifted down to the ground and into the window where he had obviously come out of. Careful not to jostle him, Piccolo settled him on the bed, and tugged the blanket up to his knees. Hesitantly, Piccolo touched the teen's forehead with his fingertips, mirroring the action from all of those years ago when he had sworn to protect him as a child. An instant later, Piccolo was gone.


	6. Pulls Beneath the Surface

Disclaimer: Once again, I feel the need to remind my faithful readers that anyone to talk to one's self as I do is not mentally competent to design, write, and totally create the wonderful world of Dragonball, or Dragonball Z. (Although I think someone let the little monkeys loose in the studio to write GT…)

Blood Lies

By November

Chapter Six

"Pulls Beneath the Surface"

The next day, at Capsule Corp., Gohan lazily swished the contents of one of the glass vials in a tiny circle. His dark eyes followed the purple tinged semi-liquid in curiosity, eager to ask one of the scientists what it was, but Sycor was...not very approachable. Deban had been busy with Jesser's most recent attempt at chemistry. Apparently, from what Gohan could gather just from comments made by the others, the guy was great with anything and everything electronic, but if it required any kind of chemistry, he was screwed.

"Be careful not to slosh that," someone said from directly beside him. Gohan peeked out of the corner of his eyes and noticed Arale was standing beside him, her hands plunged deep into her white lab coat. She raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing?"

"Just wondering what this was," Gohan admitted. Arale snorted and took the vial away from him.

"It's not dirty, that's for sure," she chuckled. "It's something that Doctor Sycor has been working on; he's trying to create a biological weapon." Gohan raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Arale commented. "He is trying to create a substance that can be programmed with electrical surges and used for ground assault on biological dangers."

"Such as…" Gohan prompted. Arale shrugged.

"Perhaps just in case another Cell comes around?" Gohan's face paled, but Arale was busy sticking the vial back where it was supposed to go.

"Good luck with that," he muttered. Arale did not seem to hear him, though as the lunch alarm sounded above the lab decontamination room. Jesser whooped from where he stood at his work station.

"Time to eat!" Jesser announced. Arale smiled and shook her head as she made her way toward the row of hooks to hang up her coat.

"Ahem." Gohan turned around to see Seftee, the loud-mouthed red headed apprentice who had been absent the day before, standing beside him. She smiled. "We normally try to grab lunch together every once in a while; would you like to join us today?"

Gohan shrugged and looked over at the clock on the wall.

"How long do we have today?" He asked. Jesser came up beside them, being nosey.

"Today is a full forty-five minutes," he supplied. Arale waved toward them, gesturing toward the door.

"Sure, I'll come," Gohan answered. Seftee handed her coat to Jesser and went to the exit, going into the tube with Arale. Gohan hung up his coat, wondering what else the lab had hidden within it, and if he would ever get the chance to see anything else.

The group left the building and strolled toward the smaller, older district where Gohan had been earlier to buy groceries. He ignored totally the giant statue of Mr. Satan who over looked the street. The ridiculous statue resembled the 'hero of the Cell Games' perfectly, in Gohan's opinion: big and no smarter than a rock. He cut off the train of thought before it could get any farther, as the four of them passed the statue and headed for a little shop that sold delicious smelling sandwiches.

"That Hercule is pretty awesome, isn't he?" Jesser asked. Gohan could have punched him.

"I go to school with his daughter." Gohan blanched.

"He has a _daughter_?" Gohan exclaimed, incredulous that any woman on earth would be willing to marry the sorry excuse for a man, much less have a child. Jesser seemed startled.

"Um, yeah, her name is Videl; She goes to Orange Star High School where the three of us go," Jesser answered. Silently and still floored, Gohan followed the other teens into the little shop.

"I meant to ask you, Gohan, where do you go to school?" Arale asked. Gohan tightened his lips, debating between honesty and lies, when hunger hit him right where it counts.

"I am homeschooled," he said, his attention riveted on the board above the cashier that listed all of the sandwiches.

"That sounds boring," Seftee declared. Gohan shrugged, not really caring what the older girl thought. It was his turn to order anyways.

Once they ordered and paid (Seftee paying for his as a means of a peace offering) the four teens slumped into a decorative metal table with matching chairs. The sunlight filtered in under the canopy, casting a comfortable glow on the four.

"So, do you want to go to school?" Seftee asked. Arale moved suddenly, followed by a sharp intake of air from Seftee. The redhead glared at the other, her burgundy eyebrows cinching together in the center of her forehead. Arale refused to look at her, instead opting for the store fronts across the street. Gohan ignored them both and answered the question.

"Maybe."

"That reminds me, Jesser, are you helping her Highness with crowd control for the concert?" Arale asked. Jesser visibly wilted.

"Must you call her that? What if she hears you one day?" Jesser asked. He shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment.

"She only does it because it bothers you," Seftee announced. Jesser glared at Arale.

"Yes, for your information, I am helping with crowd control, but mostly, I'll be manning the controls; Sharpner is actually assisting more with crowd control." Arale looked up as the waiter brought their sandwiches, the conversation lost in the food.

Between bites, Arale informed Gohan that Orange Star High was putting on a concert for anyone who wanted to attend. Orange Star High students would perform for the practice, and Mr. Satan's daughter would help control the crowd. Gohan was not particularly interested, but listened anyways, just to be polite.

As they were throwing their leftovers and napkins into the trash, a siren tore into the air. Everyone turned, trying to locate the source of the disturbance. A small motor bike screamed around the corner and stopped, directly in the center of the street, a short, black haired girl stepped off the bike and looked down the street expectantly.

"I see them, Sir!" she said into a thin plastic rod that hooked onto her ear and rested against her left cheek. "Yes, Sir! Sir? But, Sir!"

As the four teens watched, a single black car appeared at the far end of the street going entirely too fast to be legal. Two police cars raced after it, hollering over the loud speaker to stop; the black car sped up, and as Gohan watched, time seemed to slow. The girl still stood in the middle of the road, her chin in the air, as the car raced directly for her.

"Videl! Get out of there!" Jesser screamed. The girl in the center of the road remained where she was, but suddenly threw something away from her, directly into the path of the oncoming car. Gohan watched, fascinated and terrified at the same time, as the car raced toward her non stop.

"Videl!" Seftee shrieked. "What are you _doing_? Get your butt out of the street!"

Still, the dark headed daughter of Hercule stood her ground, a smirk lighting her face as the runaway car struck the black strip that she had thrown down a few seconds before. The black cord exploded, blowing the car off course and into a tailspin—which was still headed directly for Videl.

Arale screamed and grabbed hold of Jesser as Gohan fazed out from where had been standing with them, and reappeared, instant billows of gold lighting up his face, lifting his hair up, and coloring it the eye smarting shade of the full sun. He punched the hood of the car downward, toward the ground, a boom and an ominous crunch echoing from one side of the street to the other as billows of dirt exploded into the air around him and Videl.

Arale and Seftee clung to one another as the dirt settled. Videl, her eyes squeezed shut and her arms crossed over her face was sitting one the ground a foot in front of what was left of the car; there were no movements at all from the criminals in the car, but the police quickly surrounded them and dragged them out, handcuffing them.

Gohan, however, was nowhere to be found.

DBZ

Across the street, lying as flat as he could manage, so as not to be seen, was the missing teenager. Curious, he watched as the three men in the car were yanked out and handcuffed before being stuffed into the back of a police car. Videl seemed to be in shock, and was being evaluated by a paramedic, while Gohan's three co-workers were frantically calling his name. Gohan bit his lip, angry at his predicament. He was sure that Seftee, Arale, and Jesser saw him charge for the car and could put two and two together, but he didn't think anyone else had seen him. _Everyone_ had seen him in Super Saiyajin form, however. A scary kid with gravity defying gold hair, bright teal eyes, and _lightning_ _bolts_ racing around his body was a bit hard to miss. Not to mention the fact that he had _punched_ a car…

_Dang it_, he thought to himself. He bit his lip again, unsure of what to do. His three co-workers were becoming rather frantic about their search, but Gohan could not just re-appear and say 'sorry, had to pee!' He groaned and thumped his forehead against the gravelly roof of the store he rested on. Without having any other choice, Gohan scooted backwards, away from the edge until he was no longer visible before he hopped down and landed gracefully in the alley behind the building. He took off at a run, headed straight for Capsule Corporation and Bulma.

DBZ

Gohan stood, nervously scrubbing the glass bottles filled with disgusting, unnamed organisms, his mind not wondering about what could have been in the bottles, but rather, what his three friends would say when they returned and found Gohan already back to work. Once he had returned to Capsule Corp., Gohan had found Bulma and told her what had happened, begging an idea as to what to do. Bulma's first suggestion was to tell them and be done with it, but Gohan had adamantly denied that one, so her second suggestion had been to act as if he had merely got cut off from them in the chaos and had beaten them back to the lab.

So, when the lab doors swooshed open, Gohan had been a bit unprepared for the reaction of his three co-workers.

"Gohan! Oh my gosh! We thought you were _dead_!" Seftee announced, her voice echoing off of the pristine walls of the lab. "Where did you go?"

"I guess I lost you guys; I turned around and all of you were gone, so I just came back here. I figured you would all show up eventually." Gohan still held a bottle in his hand, soap suds coating it and his arms as he scrubbed it and turned to look at all of them innocently.

Seftee's red hair was wild and coming out of the bun that it normal occupied at the base of her neck, while Arale's eyes were puffy and pink rimmed. Jesser just looked pale.

"You should have tried to find us," Arale snapped. "After you jumped out there, we thought you were dead!"

_Here it comes_, he thought to himself. Frowning, Gohan tilted his head to the side; with his hand motionless against the glass, and looked at her, feigning confusion. "What do you mean? I didn't go anywhere; like I said, I just turned around and I guess I was shuffled away from you."

Jesser opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to forget what it was going to be. Instead, he met Seftee's incredulous gaze. Truly steamed, Arale heaved a sigh and turned around before she marched for her work station. Jesser and Seftee looked at him a couple of times before they, too, returned to their work stations.

"Was everyone okay? I was shuffled to the side and couldn't see anything." Gohan looked over at Arale, but her back was still stiffly facing him. He turned his gaze to the other two.

"Yeah, yeah, whoever it was that stopped the car—they're calling him the Golden Warrior—he stopped the car before it hit Videl. I think the guys in the car were hurt some because, I mean, wow, you should have seen what this guy did to the car." Gohan listened, wide eyed to the rest of the story according to Jesser. He turned back to the sink full of dirty bottles, his mind preoccupied with the recent events.

_The Golden Warrior, huh? That sounds pretty impressive or something_, he thought to himself. He bit his lip, a wave of heartache hitting him unexpectedly. _I hate to disappoint them, but it's nothing near as noble as all of that_. Suddenly, he could not wait to get back home and away from Satan City.

To Be Continued…

_Right here and now I am going to let you guys in a wee secret of mine…don't anyone get your hopes up about Gohan's dating anyone in particular! It is all up in the air and I may actually confer with the crazy little monkeys to decide who the lucky girl shall be. But sure, go ahead and leave me your recommendations, I loved to hear people's thoughts…Darn shame I just can't read them right out of people's heads…_


	7. Eyes Burning Up

_Still having computer woes: must now share with the husband! But here is the next installment and I will get out the rest ASAP!_

_Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, just torture 'em for fun!_

Blood Lies

By November Raine

Chapter Seven

"Eyes Burning Up"

Once in the air, on his way back to his mountain home, Gohan took a deep breath, thrilled to be heading home. The remainder of the day had been tense as none of the other three seemed able to believe that he could just 'get lost.' Arale seemed especially irritated with him, for reasons he could not fathom. She left without speaking another word to him. Gohan did not really figure it was going to affect his life all that much because, after all, it had not been much of a punishment anyways. Bulma, however, had enjoyed his presence and asked him to return soon, which Gohan had agreed to with full honesty in his thoughts. He had been distracted by the time spent with the others and had actually enjoyed the goings on in the lab, not to mention the interesting inventions and subjects that had drifted into being during his short stay there. Oh yeah, he planned to go back, he just did not know when exactly.

On a sudden whim, he decided to drop by and check up on the child-like android, curious what she was doing. He had been thinking about her often, but he was also not totally sold that she was not dangerous; she had been invented by Dr. Gero, after all.

"Bird," he called as he broke through the dense covering and landed, about two yards away from the opening of the cave. No answer came back to him, so he cautiously moved toward the cave. "Bird?" he called again.

He stopped and listened, uneasy with the lack of any normal forest sounds. He tilted his head to the side slightly hearing something that just barely tickled at the edge of his awareness. He started toward the cave.

"Bird!" he called as he neared the cave. The hollow echoed with his voice, but nothing else. Again, Gohan cocked his head to the side, almost hearing something just out of his hearing range. Curious, Gohan strained to hear from wince the mystery sound came from, and slowly, began to follow it. He rounded the small rocky outcropping that created Bird's cave and continued on behind it a few yards.

_There_! Gohan thought to himself. He narrowed his eyes as the noise became more pronounced, but not enough to recognize it. Suddenly, a few yards away, he saw Bird in her white dress, sitting on a low boulder. Curious, he hurried to her side.

"Bird, could you not here me call to you?" he asked quietly from behind her. She made a strangled sound and alarmed, Gohan stepped around her to see her face. Tears had formed rivulets and raced from the corners of her unnaturally blue eyes to drip from the tip of her chin. In her lap, was a bloody, mangled bird.

"It startled me," Bird said quietly. Her face was morose, but she still sat with her spine erect and her shoulders squared. Carefully, Gohan kneeled down beside her knees, her powder blue eyes meeting his dark ones. She cried again, more impossible tears streaming from her eyes.

"I killed it, Gohan," she cried. "The beautiful thing startled me, and I killed it." Gohan swallowed, numbed by the self deprecation he could hear etched in her every word. He dropped his eyes to the bloody mess in her lap, sickened by the sight. The bird's blood had soaked through Bird's white dress and dripped down her creamy white legs to disappear in the pristine socks that she wore. Appalled, Gohan realized that she even had the animal's blood on her face and chest as if she had tried to cradle the dead thing.

"It's okay," Gohan whispered. Bird's lost, unfocused eyes twitched and focused on Gohan's face.

"It's not," she said. Gohan frowned; if he did not _know_ that the girl before him was an android, he would swear that she was in shock. He grit his teeth and gripped the girl's tiny hand.

"Bird," he whispered. She looked at him through her blurry eyes. "Let me have the bird." As soon as he said it, she brought it up to her chest, gently cradling it.

"No," she whispered. Gohan wet his lips and tried again, resting a hand against the girl's knee.

"Bird, we need to bury it, and get you cleaned up." Bird's eyes glowed a light blue, startling Gohan, before she looked down at the creature in her arms.

"I am a monster," she said quietly. Gohan took the bird away from her and stood to walk a few feet away, before he sent a ki blast into the ground, creating a crater. Bird's sobs were quiet and painful in the background as the teen gently laid the dead animal into the small crater. Gohan quickly shoved earth over the dead body, effectively burying it. He turned back to Bird, his eyes troubled.

"Bird," he said. He kneeled down beside her again, touching her knee gently. "Are you okay?"

The android raised her eyes, her soul obvious through the powdery blue, and nodded her head. Gohan patted her knee, not sure where else to touch her. He pulled his lips into a tight grimace as he realized that her once white dress was probably ruined. He bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, trying to figure out what to do with the girl.

"Bird, do you have any other clothes?" he asked timidly. The android slowly shook her head, her mournful eyes drifting down to take in all of the blood that covered her. Gohan sighed.

He glanced up at the sky; it was getting dark, and Gohan was due home before eight o'clock, but he could not exactly leave the girl there to fend for herself. He could take her back to Capsule Corp., but he worried that she might not live long if he did that, what with the Saiyajin Prince living there, and all that. He could take her to Krillin and Eighteen's, but he wasn't sure how well that would be accepted; suddenly, the light when on somewhere in his mind.

"Bird, would you be okay if I asked someone to come here to help me get you cleaned up?" Bird seemed reserved, but nodded her head anyway. Gohan smiled and patted her knee again reassuringly before he closed his eyes and concentrated hard on the constant glow that symbolized his mentor and the bond they shared.

_**Piccolo**_.

_**Hmm?**_

_**I need your help, but...before you come I need you to promise me something.**_ Gohan felt Piccolo consider for a split second before he answered.

_**Okay, Kid, what's up?**_

_**Promise you'll just trust me, and that you won't tell anyone else.**_

_**I promise to go along with this as long as it doesn't get you hurt.**_ Even in the mind, his voice had gruffness to it.

_**Good enough; will you come? **_

_**I'm almost there, or haven't you been practicing finding ki?**_

_**I haven't had time.**_

_**Mmm. I'm here…**_

"What is it you need that is deserving of such secrecy?" Piccolo dropped down to the ground behind Bird, but he frown in consternation as he stepped closer. He raised an eyebrow at his student.

"Piccolo, don't get mad. This is Bird…she's an android." Piccolo's eyes widened for a moment before he walked over to look Bird up and down. His face transformed to one of out right shock as he noted the dried blood all over the girl's clothes.

"Gohan, you'd best start from the top," Piccolo suggested, his voice intense. He eyed Gohan, a severe glint to his eyes. Gohan swallowed and shifted uneasily. Bird looked at Gohan, noticing his apprehension.

"A few days ago, I was flying in the forest and noticed her. I landed and…well, we just kind of started being friends." Gohan hoped that his mentor would ignore the way his heart sped up and just go with it. Piccolo watched him, a clouded look on his face.

"And the blood came in at what point…" Piccolo prompted.

"Well, she said that a bird startled her and, well…I'll show you." Gohan reached out and touch his sensei's hand, opening up the memory of how he found her. He quickly dropped his hand away, afraid of Piccolo seeing anything else. Piccolo growled.

"You get her cleaned up and I will take care of her clothes," he muttered. Gohan smiled at his sensei and reached for Bird's cold hand.

"Bird, are you okay with washing yourself off in the waterfall over near the heavy trees?" He asked. Bird seemed to awaken slightly and blinked at Gohan before she nodded. Gohan escorted her to the water before he turned his back and walked back to Piccolo, who also had turned around.

"Why did you not take her to Bulma's?" Piccolo asked.

"I didn't think it would be safe for her there," Gohan admitted. _And I don't want anyone else to really know about her right now._ He admitted silently to himself. He felt oddly protective of her, as if he could reverse the damage done if he could just protect her. He felt his heart begin to thud as he considered the thought.

"She won't be able to stay here forever, Gohan, you're going to have to move her somewhere else eventually," Piccolo said quietly. Gohan shifted and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

"I know, and I'll figure it out soon."

"What were you doing at Capsule Corp.?"

"Oh, I stayed out late the night I met Bird and Mom did not appreciate it; she thought if Bulma took me and put me to work at Capsule Corp., I might 'straighten out' I believe were her words." Gohan grit his teeth as his blood began to sing to him, making his mouth feel dry and his heart ache.

_Please, just stop_, he begged. _Just wait until Piccolo is gone_.

"I'm done," Bird said from directly behind them. Gohan, his heart already pounding out of his chest, peeked at Piccolo from out of the corner of his eye. Without a word or a backwards glance, Piccolo lifted his right hand and leveled it behind them. A faint vibration shook the air around them, before Gohan and Piccolo would turn around.

Bird stood, fresh, clean and dressed once again in a white sundress—nix bird blood. Gohan wildly cast around, looking for an out.

"Um, thanks Piccolo!"

"I am not a personal dressing room, Gohan, don't make a habit of it," he growled. Gohan smiled tightly as he swallowed hard.

"I've got to get home before I'm late," he said. "Bird, will you be alright if I come in the morning?"

The girl android still seemed dazed, but there was just nothing else he could do about it at that moment as the memories began to assault him. Piccolo gave him a curious look, but Gohan lifted off of the ground and waved to them both.

"Thank you, Piccolo-san; I'll see you tomorrow, Bird," he said before he turned toward the mountain and lit up the sky, trying to get far enough away from Piccolo that he wouldn't follow.

Roughly a half-mile from his house, Gohan dropped to the ground and yanked the little metal box out of sash and tipped the blade out. Dry sobs cracked roughly in Gohan's chest as he deliberately sliced through the flesh of his forearm. Once again, the blood spilled from his flesh, and his heart rate seemed to become natural. Gohan panted, leaning forward to rest his head on the ground before him in agony.

He saw in his memories, the heart breaking moment when Goku decided that his training was easier in the Otherworld than at home, taking care of his family. Gohan could remember the way his heart had stopped beating for a few moments, making him feel as if he were suffocating. He wanted to stop existing. He wanted to either live, or be free to not exist anymore, not this in between that he was living.

Goku had left him. Goku chose to leave him. Gohan cried, but no tears left his eyes. As he lay there in the dirt, his heart pumping painfully, Gohan wrapped his arms around his waist and cried; dry, wracking sobs that did nothing to end the hurt and anger that he had carried for four years. Above him, the stars were the only witness to the broken child that Son Gohan had become.

DBZ

Sunlight poured into Gohan's bedroom a few days later, but the teen had tugged his blankets up to the crown of his head, making for himself a cocoon. He was warm, but the numbness that had entered his body that night still plagued him. He just felt so tired. He wanted to stay there, snuggled up in his warm blankets until hell itself froze over. He had fought it off for the last few days, but this morning, Gohan just couldn't get out of bed. His bedroom door thudded open.

"Gohan, sweetie, it's late in the morning," his mother said. "You need to get up."

Gohan moaned into his blankets, the thought of having to get out of bed almost more than he could handle.

"Mom, I don't feel good; can I stay in bed?" Chichi brushed a cool hand over Gohan's forehead, concern coloring her features.

"Sweetheart, I think you might have a fever," she said quietly. "I guess if you'd like, you can stay in bed and sleep; I'll tell Goten to stay out of here, okay?" Gohan murmured something, but it was not understandable.

The teen closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but the exhausted emotions that he had fought off for four years were attacking him in a way that terrified him. Never before had he felt the strangling, heightened fear that currently pervaded his every muscle, but he was lost to the way out. He was so very _angry._ He wanted to fight and scream at his father for leaving him; but the man was dead, and totally unreachable. Gohan's teeth itched with the need to destroy something; his finger still shook, and his shoulder still ached as full on hatred seeped into him. He hated his father for leaving him, he hated Piccolo for taking him away and teaching him to fight, he hated Vegeta for coming to earth in the first place, and he even had begun to hate his mother for the responsibility that she put on him to help her take care of their home and Goten.

Mostly, though, he hated himself. He was not sure when the self hatred had started, but the memories of his failure pounded into his head and left him feeling drained and useless. Besides, if Goku despised him enough to leave him, it could not be hard to hate himself.

Gohan rolled over and bit his lip as he started to tremble. His breath was shallow and hot as it filled his cocoon, his cheeks were very warm and burned against the skin of his wrist whenever he rested his forehead there. Gently, he moved his hand to probe gently at the wounds on his chest. He had crisscrossed cuts peppering his chest under the two shirts that he wore, where he had viciously carved away his emotions, too afraid to feel the full extent of them. His fear, too, made him angry, but then again, his fear made him hate himself even more. He had always been afraid, and whenever he had needed the great strength that everyone said he had, he ran away because he was too afraid. So many people—those he loved, especially!—were hurt or killed because he had been too afraid to fight. It was an endless cycle that Gohan knew would only end when his life did.

Desperately, Gohan squeezed his eyes tightly shut and took a deep breath. The air under his comforter had become stuffy, but he refused to enter back into the bright world of his bedroom. Gohan stretched himself out on his bed, his back pressed into the mattress, and forced the tingling within his chest to back up into a cornered part of his mind, the place where so much of his emotion had seeped from lately. He firmly grit his teeth together and refused to give up until the oppressive feeling was firmly pushed from his ribcage, making it easier to breath. With his mind cleared for the moment, Gohan flopped onto his side and allowed his sleepy, sick body to rest and fight off whatever illness was bringing him down.

Later that day, after Gohan had fallen into a fit full sleep, Goten crept in. The little boy's socks were quiet as he moved to the bed where his brother lay sleeping. His mother had told him that his brother did not feel very good, and that Goten should leave him alone, but Goten had missed him. He had just gotten used to having him back after he had spent the night with Bulma, and he was not ready to leave him alone yet.

"Go'an?" the little boy asked softly. When there was no response from his older brother, Goten crept closer, intent on sneaking into the bed with him and taking a nap like he had some many nights in the past. Slowly, he crawled up into the bed next to Gohan and bit his lip in concentration as he lifted the covers.

A shout startled him and suddenly, a hand flew towards him and punched him full in the stomach, sending the little boy flying across the room and into the wall. He slid down and sat on the floor, so surprised he could not react as the covers on his brother were tossed and yanked away until Gohan sat up; his eyes were glazed, his hair was rumpled, but the look of anger on his face dwindled to terror as he locked eyes with his little brother. Frantic, Gohan scrambled from the bed, almost ripping the bed sheets in his haste. Goten, the pain in his head and tummy finally reaching him, began to wail.

"Shh, shhh, Goten I'm so sorry!" Gohan reached for the little boy and brought him into his lap. The teen looked as if he, too, would wail, but no sounds left him and no tears fell as he tightly held his baby brother against his chest.

"What is going on in here?" Chichi demanded as she charged through the door. Her eyes widened slightly at how horrible her eldest looked, but her first concern was her sobbing youngest. "Gohan, what happened to Goten?"

Miserably, Gohan hung his head, not even sure what to tell his mother. He had been dreaming when Goten had woken him and he had been startled. With a jolt, he realized he sounded exactly like Bird had when she had killed the little bird. Appalled, Gohan looked closely at his brother and swallowed. He could have killed Goten. Chichi reached down and scooped the toddler out of Gohan's lap and crooned to him, her hard black eyes on her eldest.

"I…"Gohan began. He shook his head and looked at his hands. "I hit him."

"What?" Chichi exclaimed. "What do you _mean_ you hit him?"

"Assident!" Goten wailed through his tears. He hated hearing his mommy and his brother fight, and Gohan had not meant to hurt him. Chichi brought her eyes to her youngest and gently cupped his cheek with her cool hand before she looked at Gohan again.

"You had better start talking!" she shouted at Gohan.

"I…was asleep and I was dreaming…when he woke me up…" Gohan swallowed again, appalled that he could have hurt his baby brother. "I hit him."

"Honey, was it an accident?" Chichi asked, her free hand finding Gohan's shoulder to get his attention. Gohan's eyes were dark and wild as he looked at her.

"Yes, but I can't have accidents!" he yelled. Chichi blinked at the raw terror that slipped into her son's voice. She had never heard him sound so panicked.

"Sweetheart, you didn't mean to," she said, trying to sooth him. Gohan stood abruptly and walked from the room, his hair still rumbled.

"I'm going to take a shower," he tossed over his shoulder, panic still edging his voice. Chichi pursed her lips, determined to back off and let Gohan handle this upset on his own. Cradling Goten in her arms, she left the room, headed for the kitchen and a cookie for the little one.

DBZ

Gohan had not been so frightened in a long time. As he stood in the shower and let the water jets beat down on his tempered face and head, he fought the bitterness rising inside him. He had to stop this. He could _never_ loose control like that again. He would rather end his own life than lay a finger on his precious baby brother. After all, Goten was still innocent. Goten still had a chance to grow up without this…misery that colored ever waking moment of Gohan's life. He had to get control of himself before it was too late.

He reached a hand out of the shower and dug out the little box from beneath his clothes, desperate to curb the growing emotions. The water sprayed tiny droplets of water on the silver razor, marring the shiny surface until Gohan's miniature reflection was too blurry and distorted to understand. With a pang, Gohan realized that was how he felt: blurry and distorted. Ever since the Cell Games he had slowly fallen more and more away from whom he had once been. The emotions that he had fought so hard against feeling were barring down on him, leaving him…distorted.

He closed his eyes, the cool metal against the flushed skin of his chest, and pressed down until blood pooled in the dent and ran down his moist body. The sting of the blade refreshed him; made him feel as if he were still in control of his world, and soothed him in a way that Gohan knew, without one doubt, was a lie.

_Ah, I realize that it has been forever since I have updated, but I have it figured out now and should be able to update more on a regular basis now! ^__^ 1/2010_


	8. I'm Left In The Wake Of The Mistake

Blood Lies

Chapter Eight

"I'm Left in the Wake of the Mistake"

The beginning of the week of the reunion, Bulma had planned to get together one last time with Chichi and work on the particulars. Gohan had finally been able to pull himself out of his stupor after Chichi had threatened to call a doctor, and was outside, flying Goten high into the air on the cloud where he had ridden with his father as Bulma landed in her air car. Although his birthday was supposed to be before the reunion, he and his mother had a nearly unspoken agreement that his birthday was celebrated a few days after the reunion. It was never a really big thing, just his immediate family; his mother would normally bake a cake.

"Twunks!" Goten shouted. Gohan smiled as the other little boy bounded out of the car and hurried over to where the cloud hovered, just barely off of the ground. Goten squirmed, eager to see his best friend, and Gohan leaned over the edge and dropped the little Saiyajin onto the ground. Trunks smiled at Goten and stuck out his hand for a high five.

"Hey, Punk," Gohan chuckled as he hopped off of the cloud himself. Trunks turned bright blue eyes to the teen and smirked.

"I'm not a punk, you idiot!"

"Trunks!" Bulma shouted from behind him. The violet haired child flinched and peeked around at his mother, sheepish.

"Sorry," he muttered. Bulma growled and rolled her eyes before she smiled at Gohan.

"You've been missed at Capsule Corp.; when are you going to come back to visit?" Gohan shrugged his shoulders.

"Sometime," he replied. Bulma shook her head.

"I swear, I would love to meet a man with an ounce of verbal ability," she muttered as she moved toward the house, leaving the two children and the teen alone out in the yard.

Gohan took a deep breath and glanced at the younger boys. Trunks had Goten's full attention as he told him some story. _Probably some tall tale that Vegeta dreamed up to impress_, Gohan thought. He lifted into the air slowly, his booted feet hanging together, his fingers spread wide and planted on either hip.

The deadness in his chest grew more pronounced as the peaceful forest seemed to smile at him. Farther west, toward where the sun was setting, was the area where Bird was staying, and Gohan stretched his senses out to feel around where she should be; obviously, he could not sense her, but he was also relieved to not sense _anything_ over there.

Suddenly, directly south, in the direction of Satan City, an explosion thrummed the earth and shot huge billows of smoke and debris into the air. Orange and red flames growled into the sky while smaller explosion began to blow near the first. Horrified, Gohan glanced down to shout at his brother.

"Goten, Trunks, you both go inside now and tell Mom and Bulma I'll be back!" Goten nodded, fear swallowing his features. Trunks looked alarmed, too, and both boys quickly ran to the house. Gohan took off in the direction of the explosion, his ki blowing up around him as he sped.

As Gohan neared the place where the explosion had been, he stretched out his senses, trying to 'see' the problem. When no ki signatures echoed back to him, dread thrilled against him. He landed in the center of the destruction. The explosion had been from a large warehouse filled with some kind of canisters, but Gohan did not recognize the canisters, and due to the blistering flames, he was not truly in a position to be able to read them. People ran in every direction, trying to escape the flames and the smoke, and farther south, Gohan heard a siren as the fire truck rushed in their direction. Gohan narrowed his dark eyes and kept to the perimeter, but as another explosion rocked the neighborhood, he jumped into a run, trying to get there fast enough to see what had caused it.

As he rounded a corner, something the size of a child caught his attention. It was fully black, but had an iridescent glow to it, with an oblong head. Gohan shot after it as it disappeared into the forest near the shop that had just exploded.

_Maybe it wasn't what caused that explosion_, Gohan thought to himself as he followed the small, creepy little creature. _Of course, it sure is bookin' it fast enough to be guilty_._ Yeah, the likely hood of this thing being innocent is about as likely as Vegeta shaving his head and declaring peace. _

The curious child like, black…thing crept and dashed from one tree to another, almost as a monkey would. It was very quiet, and held no ki signature of its own, but every so often, Gohan would sense some kind of ki, although he was not totally sure what it was.

Suddenly, the little thing disappeared. Startled, Gohan stopped, his eyes wide, and searched as he strained his ears to hear it. He heard a hiss before whatever it was plowed into the back of his neck. He fell to the ground, stunned before the creature screamed in his ear and wrapped its little arms around his neck, choking him. Others attached to his legs, while more still leaped onto his back, grabbing at his arms. Gohan gasped as the creature's hold grew stronger, slowly suffocating him. He stuffed both hands under the thin, hard arms and yanked hard, but they did not move.

_Oh crap_, Gohan thought. His vision began to swim as his brain slowly starved for much needed oxygen. Without a second thought, he reached for the Super Saiyajin. As power exploded around him, the monkeys scattered, screaming and hissing at each other. They scampered a few feet away and turned to watch him. Gohan trembled, his fear bleeding into rage as he panted, gathering his breath.

The monkeys stood up as one and approached him, their color changing from black to a bright orange color. Alarmed, Gohan stepped back and fired off a volley of small ki blasts, and to his horror, he watched the creatures _absorb_ them; their metallic skin rippling and burning brighter. A quick count showed that there were seven of them, but it did not matter: Gohan was terrified anyways.

As one, the monkeys snarled and rushed at him, at that moment, Gohan realized that they had glistening, razor sharp fangs that lined their mouths; but no visible eyes. Thinking quickly, the teen shot into the air, getting his feet quickly off of the ground, but it made no difference. The monkeys hurled after him, jumping farther than Gohan would have imagined they could to reach him. He screamed in terror as the first monkey scampered up his body and latched onto Gohan's neck again. The teen had stopped in mid-air, trying to smack away the little primates, but they quickly latched onto his arms and legs, pinning them. One of them latched onto his shoulder and bit down, his sharp, silvery fangs digging deep into the muscle there. Gohan screamed in agony and plummeted to the forest floor.

As they hit the ground, another monkey bit into the muscle of his left calf.

_**Gohan!**_ The teen wrenched open the link to his mentor and franticly reached for him; Piccolo was right there, reaching back. Piccolo was not far. Indeed, just as Gohan angrily began to fight back again, Piccolo broke into the clearing, his cape discarded and a ki blast in each hand. Before Gohan could warn him, Piccolo sent both flying towards the creatures. Just like the one that Gohan had thrown, the monkey's skin rippled and absorbed the energy.

The monkey that had been latched onto Gohan's neck released him suddenly and squawked aloud. In the center of each monkey's chest was a pulsing red dot that had not been there earlier. As Piccolo rushed to Gohan's aid, the monkeys scuttled away before they disappeared with a faint sizzle sound.

Gohan surged to his feet, anger coursing through his veins at not being able to stop the retched little things. Feeling helpless and even angrier because of it, Gohan shrieked and slammed a fist into one of the huge trees behind him. It groaned and fell over.

"Damn it!" he screamed. Rage battled fiercely with the other emotions that bubbled within him as he punch another tree, satisfied as it, too trembled and toppled over.

"Gohan," Piccolo said quietly from behind him. Gohan took a deep breath, and brought both of his fists to his sides, his shoulders still tensed as his fury burned within him. "What happened? What were those things?"

"I don't know," Gohan admitted. His voice was rough and short, and his shoulder ached along with his calf from where the monkeys had bit him.

"You're bleeding," Piccolo noticed. The tall Namekjin stepped closer and put his hands on Gohan's shoulder. The flesh had been pierced by each small tooth, while the material of his gi soaked with blood. "It is not deep, but perhaps you should come with me to the Lookout and let Dende heal it." Gohan growled and shrugged his sensei's hands off.

"I'm fine!" he snapped. Without turning around, Gohan blasted into the air, flying as high up as he could without losing oxygen. Piccolo watched him go, concern and suspicion gnawing at his subconscious.

_What is up with you, Kid?_ He thought. _Something is not right._

After he collected his weighted shoulder pads and cape, Piccolo lifted into the air and flew toward Dende's Lookout.

DBZ

With angry emotions fueling him, Gohan flew at just under the speed of sound, his heart pounding as he circled the globe once, twice, and then again. As he flew, he fought with his thoughts.

_I really am nothing without him!_ He shrieked to himself. _Damn him! DAMN HIM!_

With a feral shriek, Gohan plummeted to the ground, hurling himself toward the earth until he landed, back first. Dirt billowed up around him out of the small crater he had made with his body, but Gohan did not care. He could not care. His body felt tensed and the bite marks stung, but nothing compared to the agony his heart was in. He was sinking farther and farther into a deep pit that surrounded him and slowly closed in around him. He did not know what to do anymore, but he knew that he was on his own.

Shamed, abandoned, and totally alone, Gohan pulled himself to his feet and stood still in the center of the crater. His thoughts were scattered, while his emotions fought him as he meticulously captured every fleeting thought, every harmful emotion, and mentally shoved them into a place farther within him. Enough was enough, he told himself as he buried the very memories and emotions that were slowly destroying him. He did not have a life anymore; he had an existence that depended on constantly guarding the dangerous emotions that ravaged him.

The numbness he had felt a few evenings ago strengthened and blossomed until he felt as if his entire body was asleep. Calmly, he lifted reserved black eyes to the sky and lifted up. He needed all of his control to find the creatures that had attacked him, and destroy them. Resolve binding the emotions away, Gohan flew away.

DBZ

Goten's chipper voice woke Chichi from a disturbing dream sometime around mid-morning. Blinking her eyes heavily, she glanced around her warily, wondering why she was asleep in one of the kitchen chairs when she suddenly remembered Gohan. Rising quickly, she rushed up to Gohan's room, but the sight of the open door left a brick in her gut. Her breathing picked up and before she could stop herself, Chichi began to cry out of fright.

"Mommy?"

Chichi whirled around at the tiny voice, and was so thankful to see at least one of her sons safe and sound in her home near her. Reaching for the three year old, Chichi wrapped him in her arms and kissed his forehead. The day before, when Goten and Trunks had come screaming into the house, Chichi's heart had plummeted. Once she and Bulma had gotten it out of the two boys that Gohan had streaked off into the sky toward the city, where the explosions had been, Bulma had tried to call Vegeta to go find him. The Saiyajin had never answered. Bulma had stayed late into the night, waiting with Chichi for the teen to come home, but he never did.

Finally, around midnight, Bulma gathered up a sleeping Trunks and retreated wearily to the hover car. She had hugged Chichi tightly and ordered her to call the next morning and let her know if the child had returned, reassuring her the entire time that it was most likely just another example of Gohan's newly discovered teenage angst.

"Mommy. Go'an?" He questioned, his large, dark eyes confused and concerned. Chichi, although not wanting to concern anyone else in this incidence of what she was sure was—again—teenage rebellion, carried Goten down the hall back to the kitchen.

"Mommy doesn't know where Gohan is, Goten, darling, but we are going to find someone who will." With that, Chichi dialed Capsule Corp.

DBZ

"Trunks! For the last time, son, will you put that chair down and go put bags in the car? We have to be going if we are to get to Goten's early enough for lunch!" Bulma slammed her hand against her forehead in frustration and was about to reach out and touch the child when a sharp _thwack_ on the back of her son's head got his attention. Trunks lowered the chair that he had been balancing and glared at his father. Vegeta raised an eyebrow and reached forward to grasp his son's right arm rather roughly.

"You, boy, had best do what your mother has told you to do," he growled. Trunks frowned and tipped his head to the side regarding his mother. Vegeta gave the child a sharp shake to get his attention again before releasing him. Trunks knew better than to say anything, but he did stick his tongue out at his father when he was _positive_ that he was no longer watching.

"Smooth, Vegeta, real smooth," Bulma commented. Vegeta snorted and tossed a bag of plastic forks at her.

"My ears can only take so much nagging before I go insane," he said. "Besides, it would do the brat good to know when to mind." Bulma slanted him a sideways glance.

"Gee, now if only the father could learn that particular trick!" Vegeta snarled and lunged at her, but Bulma quickly exited the room, her chuckles easily heard down the hall. Vegeta proudly smirked before he grimaced at the shrill ring of the telephone. Vegeta narrowed his eyes and quickly left the house. _Damn woman and her blasted phone!_

Bulma rounded the corner again into the now deserted kitchen and almost jerked the phone from the wall in her haste.

"Ah, Moshi Moshi?" she answered.

"Bulma, it's Chichi." The happiness soon dripped off of Bulma's face as Chichi related to her the latest information about Gohan. The fact that he had not been home at all since the day before greatly concerned Bulma; she had grown quite fond of the child, and was disturbed that he had not bothered to return home so soon after the last time. It was just not typical of Gohan's behavior to do something like this; the first time he had been upset, Bulma could understand that, but this time, he _knew_ how his mother would feel about him being gone all night long, not to mention that the kid had gone to check on an _explosion_.

"I thought perhaps it could simply be teenage rebellion, Bulma, but I just don't think that is what it is! I know he went to those explosions, but why isn't he home yet?" Chichi's voice wavered slightly, but Bulma knew she would not crack with her youngest son right there.

"Chichi, he has done this before, just recently if you'll remember," Bulma reminded her. "Listen, we're on our way, so when we get there, we'll see what Vegeta thinks about the whole thing, okay? Just don't panic; we'll figure this entire thing out." After reassuring her again, Bulma hung up and sprinted out of the house, searching for her mate.

"Vegeta!"

" Woman! Will you ever be quiet?" Bulma started and turned quickly to find the Saiyajin Prince wearing a look of annoyance on his face as he leaned against the outside wall to the house. "So, Kakarot's brat ran off, eh?"

Bulma narrowed her eyes at Vegeta and clenched her jaw. Vegeta knew how to get under her skin at times! "Look, you," she spat fiercely. "Gohan's gone and Chichi's beside herself with worry. You are going to help us find that kid or I'll never come near you again!" Vegeta blinked, but didn't respond.

_That's a first, _he thought to himself. _She must really be worried to have threatened _me. _I suppose it wouldn't do any harm if I just found the whelp for them; maybe Kakarot's woman will finally realize that the child needs a good beating to whip him into shape. If so, I would be willing to do the whipping. _Vegeta smirked to himself.

_AN: This chappie is through, on to the next!_


	9. I Cannot Take This Anymore

Blood Lies

Chapter Nine

"I Cannot Take this Anymore"

Gohan quietly opened his bedroom window and crawled through, knowing without a doubt that his presence had indeed been missed. Biting his lip, Gohan, stepped very carefully to his bedroom door and peered into the hall. There was quite a bit of noise coming from the direction of the kitchen so Gohan quickly sneaked to the bathroom and shut the door with a gentle 'click.'

Once inside, Gohan breathed easier. Glancing at himself in the mirror, Gohan shuddered as thoughts filled with self-loathing popped into his mind. He saw nothing when he looked into a mirror. That's what he was: absolutely nothing. Ignoring the ill feelings, Gohan stripped off the top of his gi and then felt stupid for not bringing one from his room with him. _Oh well, I'll get it in a minute._

Last night, he had flown. He had flown and raged until he felt more in control of himself, but he knew that it would not last; it never did. Eventually, he had dropped into the forest and had gone to visit Bird. The young android was staring up at the sky, the bright stars reflected in her glossy blue eyes.

Concern had filled her eyes as she noted the bite marks on his shoulder and the blood that spotted his leg where the creature had bit him, but she had remained silent about it. She also seemed to ignore the new self-inflicted marks that lined his arms. Instead, they had sat in companionable silence, sometimes speaking, sometimes not. Gohan still had no clue how to find the person that she sought.

Looking at his cuts again, Gohan tried to decide the best lie to cover them up with. He had never before cut so many and so deep at one time; especially not on his bare arms. He didn't like telling lies, but knew deep down that he had been living nothing but lies for almost four years. As he lifted a cupped handful of water to splash on his face, Gohan felt someone arrive and it caused him to be still for a moment as the fear of being found out assaulted his brain. Vegeta wasn't stupid: he would know. Gohan shook his head and looked at himself in the mirror again. 

It did not matter.

DBZ

As soon as they landed, Bulma jumped out and rushed into the house. Vegeta had said that Gohan was in fact inside the house and Bulma was curious as to the boy's explanation. She felt that a second good tongue lashing was in order. Hurdling into the kitchen, Bulma found Chichi hard at work on the day's meal, but she turned as soon as she heard Bulma come in. Bulma stopped short at the vision of utter hurt and worry written in every part of Chichi's face.

"Chichi, what happened? What did he say?" Bulma asked gently, gathering the very upset woman into her arms. Chichi sniffed into Bulma's shoulder before she replied.

"I don't know Bulma; he still has not come home." Bulma shifted and held the younger woman at arm's length.

"He has to be here, Vegeta said that he could sense him!"

"And I did not lie; he's in that first room there," Vegeta stated calmly as he stepped slowly into the house, glaring at the bathroom door. Chichi looked confused as she looked towards the bathroom door, noticing for the first time that it was closed. Her eyes narrowed and she advanced on the room like a tiger hunting its prey.

DBZ

Krillin and Eighteen had just finished showering, and Krillin sat on the edge of their bed tugging his boots on when his lovely wife stepped into the room. Krillin's jaw hit the ground in shock as he took in the magnificent sight of his blond wife in a dress. Eighteen noticed the looked and frowned at her lover for a moment.

"Gah…you look wonderful, Eighteen!" Krillin said, his mind racing to cover up his shock. He grinned innocently and a blush stained his cheeks at the look his beautiful wife spared him with. Eighteen's dress was lovely; it was pale pink with a simple navy blue sash and matching pumps. Eighteen smiled indulgently and spun around in place, giving her husband the view from all angles. Krillin stood and levitated to plant a gentle kiss on his young wife's pink lips.

"Now, we have to get going or we're going to be late…again." Eighteen nodded and reached for the cell phone on the dresser. A beeping noise caught her attention and as she glanced at the phone, she realized that there was a message.

"Krillin, there's a message. You check this and I'll go get little Miss Marron ready to go," she suggested as she handed the phone to the short man. Krillin smiled happily at his wife and watched her as she walked away, amazed that he had managed to marry her. He shook his head and turned his attention to the device in his hand. After Krillin pressed a few buttons, the electronic voice on the other end informed him that he had received a message from the Briefs residence before Bulma's voice came on.

"Krillin, Chichi's worried sick about Gohan; he hasn't been home since yesterday. He shot off to check on that explosion in Satan City but never came home. Vegeta, Trunks, and I are headed over there to see if we can help find the kid; I'll call you later to let you know what's up." After Krillin finished listening to Bulma's message, he bit his lip and clicked the phone off. Gohan had been different for a few weeks after the Cell Games, always seeming to stare off into nothingness at times. Krillin shook his head sadly; Gohan had not done anything that even hinted at depression, but he had seemed to eventually recover from the trauma. He had become the happy, innocent kid that he had always been.

Krillin sighed and jogged quickly out of the room and down the hall to their daughter's room. Before he rounded the corner, Krillin stopped dead in his tracks at the sniffling sound of his little girl's voice.

"Mommy, it hurts sometimes!" Marron's little voice wavered.

"Sweetheart, I'm sure it's just a dream. No one's here, no one's hurting you," Eighteen said, trying to sooth her tiny blonde girl. Reaching for the child, Eighteen tried to hold her close, but to her surprise, the three year old pulled away and looked at her mother with frustrated, teary eyes.

"No, no, Mommy! Not me, someone else! He hurts, and he does bad things," Marron whimpered. Eighteen again tried to reach for her daughter.

"Mommy! _He's burning_!" she cried. Great tears sliced down her cheeks and dripped down her neck. "He's afraid, and alone. Mommy, help him! They're trying to find someone!"

Krillin just stood, a frown marring his features at the disturbing outburst; something was just not right here at all! And he had the feeling that Gohan running away had something to do with his feelings.

DBZ

Gohan had retrieved a new gi out of his room as well as a white, long sleeved shirt that fit underneath it, to cover his wounds, and sat stuffing his foot into his shoe. Damn, he wished that his head would stop hurting! It must have come from the blood loss. The dark headed teen took a deep breath and sat for a moment, messaging his temples and thinking. He had to come up with an excuse for being gone all day and all night and he had to think of it fast! If only his blasted head would not _ache_ so!

Gohan almost jumped out of his skin as the bathroom door was nearly wrenched off of its hinges and a very angry Chichi stalked into the room. The demi-Saiyajin gulped as his eyes grew round; his mother stopped barely a foot away and jammed her balled up fists onto her hips. Gohan noticed how high her ki had gone and that sent shivers of regret chasing up and down his back.

"Where have you been?" Chichi asked her voice low and dangerous. Gohan nearly fell over; his mother _did __**not**_ speak so quietly when she was angry. "After the last time, you _know_ better than to disappear like that!"

Desperate, Gohan tossed around for an answer and said the first thing that came to mind. "I was with Piccolo-san! The explosion was nothing but a warehouse that had caught fire and afterwards I caught up with Piccolo." Gohan could have slapped himself for saying something so utterly ridiculous. Not that being with Piccolo was that far fetched; after all, he had spent the night with him before, but the fact that his mentor would be at the reunion would severely dampen his credibility. _Unless I could get Piccolo-san to lie, but I might as well walk around with a sign saying 'I'm a moron!' hanging from around my neck._

Chichi's anger slipped a tiny bit at those words; she was not an idiot: she knew that Piccolo cared for Gohan. He had returned her son in one piece every time he had run away on whatever far-reaching quest he had gone on. No, Piccolo was not a threat, but being the mother she was, Chichi could read the fear in her son's eyes. She knew he was not telling the whole truth—if it was truth at all. She made a mental note to speak to Piccolo about it whenever the former Demon made an appearance.

"It's fine to go to him, Gohan; I know you've been having a tough time lately, but you have already run off once in the last two weeks, and you know how I felt about it! On top of that you don't think I would have been worried about you? What do I need to do to get you to understand that I will not allow that?" Gohan gulped; Chichi sighed and tilted her head to the side, appraising her eldest son. Gohan felt bare and wide open standing before his mother; he didn't like to lie to her, but he knew that she wouldn't approve of his 'habit.'

"Darling, is there anything bothering you? Anything you need to talk about?" she asked, hoping that Gohan would just come out and talk to her, but Gohan flashed one of his dad's trade-mark grins before raising his hand and flashing the 'v' sign.

"Nothing, Momma, nothing; I'm sorry, I hadn't meant to make you worry, but I just…needed to talk to Piccolo," he said, laughing nervously. Chichi narrowed her eyes, but remained silent. He was not telling the truth, and Chichi could sense it.

But before she could say anything further, a small tornado—by the name of Goten and Trunk—spun its way into the house. The boys, attracted by the voices, found Chichi and Gohan in the bathroom. Upon seeing his brother, Goten flung himself up into the teen's arms while Trunks squeezed in to wrap his arms around Gohan's legs.

"Gohan, come outside and play with us!" Trunks begged. Goten leaned back to stare at his brother's face and frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side in a way that reminded Chichi of Goku.

"Go'an okay?" Goten reached up with a hand to stroke Gohan's cheek. Chichi didn't miss the odd look that past through Gohan's eyes.

"Yeah, Saru, I'm fine," he whispered, hugging the little boy. Trunks jerked hard on his pant leg and Gohan glanced down.

"Come outside and swing us, please?" Trunks begged, but a gruff voice from the hall caused him to flinch.

"Stop groveling and get off of the floor, child!" Vegeta said roughly. Trunks scurried to do as he was told and stood before his father, head down. Gohan lowered Goten to the floor and stepped past his mother.

"Vegeta, please, don't be angry. I'll take them both outside and keep them busy." Gohan bowed his head, giving Vegeta the utmost respect. Gohan heard nothing but silence and tilted his head slightly to see the Prince's face. There was a frown on Vegeta's face as his sharp black eyes zeroed in on something. Following his gaze, Gohan realized that Vegeta had caught the long, tender cut running along his forearm. Gohan shot his gaze back up to that of the Prince of the Saiyajin's and registered fright at the angry expression on the man's face. Gohan's eyes grew wide and he quickly swallowed, tugged his long sleeved shirt down, and grabbed the hand of each boy before walking quickly from the room, hoping to Kami that Vegeta would simply brush it off.

DBZ

Gohan was absolutely terrified. There was no other way to express it. He was sure that Vegeta knew and as soon as Piccolo showed up and his mother realized he had lied, there would be hell to pay. On top of all of this, the little elf in his head was still trying to pound its way out, while the boxed up emotions that he had trapped the night before were howling in the darkness of his soul. Not to mention his new worry of what the evil, monkey-like creatures had in store for him

Sighing, Gohan glanced over and saw Goten and Trunks chasing an innocent butterfly and felt sharp pains in his own chest at the sight. He started to tremble slightly and gripped his hands to keep himself steady. Gohan swallowed, he would have to wait; things were too dangerous right now for him to sneak off. Instead, he watched as the two boys chased each other around the green yard of their tiny house, bitterly envious of their ability to play carelessly.

DBZ

Later that night, Gohan rested his head backwards onto the low windowsill in his bedroom and stared up at the night sky, mentally reviewing his previous history. The little black monkeys were first and foremost on his mind, but he was still unsure of where he should even begin looking for them.

_Wonders will never cease_, he thought to himself. _I originally __**had**__ a tail…and now I'm being attacked by something that __**has**__…wait, did they have tails?_ Gohan frowned and brought his right hand up along with the warm cup he held. He sniffed the light steam coming out of the cup and took a sip. The tangy, spicy liquid warmed down his throat and soothed his nerves, but still did nothing to enlighten his thoughts over the Mystery of the Martian Monkeys as he had begun to think of them. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath trying to think back to the attack.

_Nope, they definitely did not have tails_. With that settled, Gohan leaned his head backwards against the windowsill again and watched the stars. He could remember when he was really young and his Grandfather had told him that the bright lights that appeared at night were called stars. Gohan and his dad had wondered one night weather they were big fireflies that had been stuck in the inky blackness in the sky, but his Grandfather had informed them both that their 'fireflies' were indeed large amounts of very hot gas that were burning really far away. Goku had been so tickled about that that he had fallen off of the tree limb he had been lying on. Grimly, Gohan tightened his grip on his cup as he remembered that night nearly eleven years into his past. It felt as if it were many hundred years ago instead.

Suddenly, in the darkness outside his window, there was a shadow that flew against the stars, distorting them. Alarmed, Gohan jumped up and spun to face his window as he wrenched open the window and launched himself outside. Farther ahead of him, still slowly circling his mountain top home, was the blurry shadow he had seen out of his window. He hurled himself into the sky and after the illusive shadow. Danger warnings pumped into his veins and sent his Saiyajin senses into overdrive as he neared the foreign flying object.

Curious, Gohan watched as the ship—or whatever it was—flew past the stars. But the curious thing about it was the way it moved. It seemed like a bug just under a human's skin, bunching up the night's sky as it moved. Gohan cautiously skimmed closer to the strange object, alarmed as to why the thing was flying above his home, but before he could catch up to it, it suddenly appeared. It was a dark orb of an unidentifiable substance, but Gohan was unable to process anything more as a bright arc of electricity struck out at him, catching him by surprise.

Gohan screamed as naked electricity licked and burned his skin, searing his nerve endings. Blood pounded angrily in his head, but he could not hear it through the screaming fingers of lightning-like electricity that wrapped around his body. But something within Gohan exploded, burning him again at the mass exodus of startling power that poured out of him, immediately cancelling the agony of the electrical arc. As the arc released him, Gohan felt the earth's gravity take hold and yank him back down toward the ground. And without caring, Gohan breathed out and allowed the darkness to drag him down.

DBZ

Consciousness returned slowly, as if he were in a deep mud puddle trying to dig himself out with his arms bound. His heart beat steadily in his ears, but his lungs screamed from their need to work as Gohan's hearing began to pick up on more than his own heart beat. Someone was calling his name. Time flared back into reality as Gohan's awareness exploded across his face along with a hard slap. Blinking, Gohan coughed his lungs back into functionality as hands on either shoulder steadied him.

"Gohan!"

The teen was dazed as he glanced up through the haze of left overs from the bright electrical arc. The first thing in his vision was a white fabric that wound about Piccolo's shoulders. Gohan's mentor had a dark look on his face as the teen became fully aware of where and who he was. He coughed again and leaned forward, his bones feeling as if he had been wacked by a sounding rod, while his muscles were closer to feeling like they did after a horrible 'training session' with Piccolo back in the day.

"What the hell happened?" Piccolo growled. The tall Namekjin knelt before Gohan as the teen brought himself back into full awareness. He lifted his left hand and curled it around the back of his neck, feeling the tenseness there in the muscles.

"I don't know," Gohan whispered. His throat was sore and his voice raspy as he answered. Gently, he fingered his throat as he continued, frightening memories of his own echoing in his head. "I was…thinking and saw something—"

"What was it?" Piccolo asked. Gohan glanced around and realized that Piccolo had apparently moved him closer to his house.

"I don't know," Gohan said. "It was some kind of space ship with…some kind of cloaking device that hid it from view." Just then, from within the house, Gohan heard his mother's voice calling for him.

"Dang it," he muttered weakly. He looked up at Piccolo, a desperate glimmer in his eyes. "Please, I can't let her find out about this. I'll get out later in the morning and talk to you then, okay?" Gohan surged to his feet, his muscles complaining loudly at the sudden movement. He stumbled toward the window to his room, not waiting for Piccolo to reply, but Gohan could feel Piccolo's ki signature edge away.

With a sigh, Gohan weakly pushed himself into his bedroom through the window, preparing himself for the on slot of maternal fury to come.

DBZ

The next morning Gohan found himself flying out to Capsule Corp., his ears still properly burning from the reaming he had received just hours before from his mother. Her fury level had reached its breaking point as well as her tolerance for Gohan's peculiar tendencies to find trouble. It _had_ to be hereditary. Gohan bit his lip and frowned as he thought about Piccolo and his promise to get back to him.

_**Piccolo?**_

_**You are giving me a headache**_. Gohan nearly chuckled out loud at the aggravated tone in his sensei's mental reply.

_**Will you converse in a normal way for once?**_

_**I'm sorry, Sir, but I won't be able to get to you today. I'm being sent to Capsule Corp again.**_ Gohan winced at the humor that spilled into the mental connection.

_**Again, child? You are making a habit out of this**_.

_**I'm sorry. I'll get back to you—**_

_**I'll see you soon.**_

Gohan sighed as he continued on to Capsule Corp., slowing down as he moved closer to where Bird was staying. Making a split decision, Gohan decided to drop in to see Bird and then hurry off to Capsule Corp. for his 'punishment.'

The sky was bright as Gohan dropped from the air to the soft ground below. Bird was not immediately in his sight, but as soon as he landed, Bird's slim frame appeared seated delicately on the ground beside the river, her left foot hanging gently in the water below her.

"Bird," Gohan said. The pale android turned and smiled gently at the teen as he approached.

"Hello," she greeted him. He laid down on the river bank beside her and dropped his right hand into the water.

"Do you feel better today?" Gohan asked her quietly. His black eyes peeked up at her from beneath his lashes. Her face was blank but for the flicker of fear that ghosted over her eyes. She bit her lip.

"I'm…better," she replied. Gohan looked at her face closely, curious if she were truly better or not. Her features remained still however.

"I have remembered something…" Bird said quietly. Gohan looked up at her, curious.

"What have you remembered?" Bird turned her icicle eyes to the clouds above her in thought, her pale eyebrows arching delicately.

"He was very tall," she began. "He had a very pleasant voice. I remember because he would speak so gently to me. He is the one who named me." Gohan dropped his gaze back to the water beneath them and stirred the water, thinking.

"That still does not give me much to work with," he said thoughtfully. "But I promise I will still try and find him, Bird." Bird smiled gently at Gohan in thanks as the teen sat up and looked at her.

"I was going to swing by and tell you, I have to be gone again for a while."

"Did you get into trouble again?" She asked. Gohan's cheeks warmed.

"I did but this time was not my fault," he said bitterly. His mother had not cared nor had Gohan told her anything of the strange space ship. Quickly, Gohan related the previous night's experience to the android, curious if she had anything to add. "Did you notice anything weird last night?"

"No," she said. He pale pink lips pulled down into a frown as she glanced back up at the sky. "I did not see or hear anything that caused me to feel threatened or to feel cautious." Gohan shrugged.

"Oh well, I guess before too long we'll figured out what great calamity has decided to attack earth this time," he murmured. Bird glanced sharply at him again.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Nothing," he muttered as he stood up. Bird stood with him, but reached out a hand to capture his attention as well as his left arm.

"You are still hurting from your father's death, yes?" Gohan pulled away from her, his skin prickling at the unexpected question.

"Which time?" He asked sarcastically. Bird narrowed her eyes, peering at him appraisingly.

"During the fight that you see in your dreams." Startled, Gohan stared at her.

"How do you know what I see in my dreams?" He asked. Bird tilted her head to the side and watched him.

"I see many things sometimes. You are very clear to me; it is myself that I do not see." Bird dropped her hand from Gohan's arm and the teen moved away, disturbed by the idea that Bird could see things like that.

"I have to get to Bulma's before I'm missed. I just wanted to tell you that I would be gone for a while and will get back to you whenever I'm released this time." Bird remained quiet and studied Gohan's face, an obscure expression on her face.

"I will be fine, Gohan. Take care of yourself and return soon." Gohan nodded his head and lifted into the sky, a curious, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach as Bird's outline disappeared in the foliage of the surrounding forest.

Gohan's thoughts were so circular that he had a head ache by the time he reached Capsule Corp and Bulma. He landed close to the rear of the great building and jogged into the brightly lit atrium. By the time he reached the labs, Bulma was already down there, her blue head buried deep within a large metallic contraption that took up the majority of the space in the electrical lab. Sycor was nowhere to be seen while Deban and Jesser were knee-deep in electrical wiring—literally.

"Is this the one you needed?" Deban hollered under the large oval machine. He shoved a bright blue wire underneath the thing, to where Bulma could see it.

"Yep, that's the one!" Came the muffled reply. "Hang on a sec and then go try to start it again." Jesser looked up and grinned as he caught sight of Gohan.

"Hey, kid, heard you would be in again today," he chuckled. "What did you do this time?" Gohan shrugged, not really in the mood to talk about anything.

"I was awake and breathing last night—that's usually all that it takes nowadays." Jesser laughed again as Bulma shoved out from underneath the ship and sat up. A streak of deep brown oil cut across her left cheek as well as frosted to tips of her hair.

"Gohan! It's about time that you got here! You're mother called an hour ago and said you would be over soon; I was beginning to think you were going to take off and not come today." Gohan arched his shoulder again in indifference.

"Sorry I took so long getting here, but I'm here now; what do you want me to do first?" He asked. The blue haired woman stood and dusted the grime from her hands onto her blue overalls, glancing around the shop.

"Deban, are you done with these bundle of wires?" She asked. Deban nodded, a regretful expression on his face. Bulma smiled.

"There you go, Gohan," she said, jerking her thumb at the tangled, knotted pile of colorful wires. "I'm not sure what happened with the wires, but they somehow got tangled pretty bad; you're job is to spend the remainder of you day untangling them." Gohan blanched his jaw dropping at the sight of the horribly knotted wires.

"You're kidding, right?" Bulma pursed her lips and shook her head.

"Nope. You're here as a punishment, remember? I think your mother would approve of this, don't you?" Gohan sighed and glared at the offending pile before he flicked his gaze back to his friend.

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd love it," he muttered. Bulma nodded and turned to Deban.

"Fire it up!" she said happily. Deban and Jesser shared a look as the elder jogged for the opening of the ship. A few minutes later a low buzz began as the engine turned over and started vibrating quietly. Jesser whooped and flagged Deban through the shaded window of the aircraft. Bulma turned her attention back to Gohan, a serious expression on her face.

"I enjoy having you here, Gohan, but I would really appreciate it if you would come to visit and not come only when you mother sends you in response to a transgression. You're a smart kid, you could be a huge help with some of this stuff; not to mention you might learn something." She patted him on the shoulder and turned away, raising her arm to slash a finger across her throat in a 'kill it' motion. In response, the dull buzz of the engine cut off.

"That's enough for now; I have several meetings to get to so we will continue this later. My father will be down here soon to address the issues with the steering." She turned to look at the teenager behind her. "Get to work, Gohan."

Annoyed, Gohan sighed deeply and plopped down on the floor and began tackling the mess of wires, lamenting the fact that his mother was a light sleeper.

DBZ

The next day found Gohan in exactly the same position he was in the day before. He was about to scream from the monotony of it all and had merely reduced his punishment by half. By lunch time, he was wound tightly by the stress of trying to untie the untie-able and the cramps in his legs and back. Something within him felt tight, as if a rubber band had been stretched from his lungs to his kidneys and was about to snap. Furiously, Gohan ignored Jesser and Arale as they spoke to him and instead quicken his pace to the elevators and the wide open spaces of Satan City.

The sunlight beyond the Capsule Corporation headquarters blared into Gohan's face and soothed the taught feeling within his breast, but only minimally. Head down, staring at the street at his feet, the teen began to run, willing his thoughts to stay on topic enough to get him somewhere private before he exploded. He jogged away from the huge structure and into the heart of the City, desperate for a release.

As he ran, his thoughts moved as well, filling his brain with visions and thoughts that made him tremble with a deep need that both thrilled and frightened him, but was ultimately familiar. His heart pounded within his chest and pushed his blood through his veins, throbbing into his fingertips and in his ears. Suddenly, an overwhelming feeling of isolation and fear clawed through him and he ached with desperation to be seen. The drastic feelings themselves alarmed and confused him, but as these feelings were neither new nor unfamiliar, Gohan swallowed dryly and continued to run, allowing his thoughts free rein.

In nearly four year, Gohan had been increasingly binding himself up away from the horrifying feelings that had begun shortly after the terror of the Cell Games had ended. Gohan had been overwhelmed and in moments of desperation, had learned to shove the helplessness away until he could learn to deal with it. Instead of learning, Gohan had discovered, purely by accident that an outside pain could drown out the internal. So he had begun cutting himself. All these years later and he had still not learned how to deal with them. Now, after the previous night, they howled and screamed from where they were locked up.

Slowing, Gohan swung into a dimmed alleyway, feeling like a thief in the night as he skulked into the darkness. He pushed closer to the farther wall away from the mouth of the alley and crouched down, hiding himself from view as he tugged his blade from his sash. In view of his current position at the lab, Gohan had dressed in his gi that morning, which Bulma had rolled her eyes at, but had remained quiet. With trembling fingers, Gohan yanked his dark blue long sleeved undershirt up away from his forearm and sliced slowly through the tender flesh there.

As rich blood beaded from the wound, Gohan took a deep breath and slowly released it, allowing his dark head to tilt backwards against the cold wall of the alleyway. The uncomfortable, tightly wound feeling within him eased as his blood pooled and slowly ran one burgundy drop down his arm. Gohan eyed the blood as it made like a crimson tear drop and fell from his arm, splattering into the grimy concrete floor of the back alley. Gohan curled his fingers slowly and gently flexed his forearm, abstractedly disturbed as another droplet formed and slowly seeped from the damaged flesh.

Gohan swallowed back the niggling commentary in the back of his mind that told him that he was playing with fire, and wiped away the line of blood with the fabric of his gi nearest his shoes; he had found that this particular area was hard to see and went unnoticed quite often. His Saiyajin genes had already begun to attack and heal the wound on his arm, but Gohan covered it up with a thin adhesive bandage that he tried to always carry with him and then tugged the sleeve down his arm to cover his wrist. Feeling much more calm and stable, Gohan strode out of the alleyway and made his way back towards Capsule Corp.

DBZ

That afternoon, Gohan was on his own as the other students were back at school for the remainder of the day, but Deban and Sycor had plenty to argue about.

"I'm telling you, Sykor, there is sufficient evidence to suggest that life outside of our own universe exists!" The words caught Gohan's attention as well as his humor and he cracked a smile and eavesdropped on the reply.

"I do not doubt that you feel that way," was the curt response. "But I prefer undeniable proof that is tangible. Something that could be brought in and studied, recorded, and logged."

"What else _could_ that kid with the gold hair be?" Gohan tilted his head to the side and peeked a look at the two older men.

_I'm not an extra terrestrial!_ He thought to himself, chagrinned. _ I'm…half extra terrestrial!_

"A prime example of teenagers today?" Sycor said dryly. Deban snorted and rolled his eyes, dropping the conversation as Bulma swished into the room. Her blue eyes first caught sight of Gohan where he still sat on the floor with the tangled mess of wires down to a mere two knotted ends.

"Good job, Gohan," she said, walking over to him. "I see that you're nearly done!" Gohan smiled grimly.

"Yeah, ready for impossible task number two," he muttered to himself. Bulma arched her eye brow and pursed her lips.

"Was that sarcasm?" She snapped. Gohan looked up innocently.

"Uh...no?" The older woman glared at him as she drew closer. Gohan tilted his head back as she stood directly over him, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"I think maybe you've been cooped up in here too much," she announced. "Vegeta mentioned that you would need to exercise soon, and I actually agree with him." She smiled as if it were unusually for her to agree with her mate.

"I think you've worked enough. Finish the two wires you are down to and then report to Vegeta for a session in the gravity room." Gohan grit his teeth and shrugged, feeling as if a good beating from Vegeta was just the thing he needed to top of his crappy day. Bulma nodded and turned away, eyeing the two scientists.

"What have you figured out with the guidance system? Has Dad been down since yesterday?" Gohan tuned them out as he finished the last two wires before he left the lab and the three preoccupied scientists. The younger receptionist at the front desk in the atrium greeted him with a friendly wave which Gohan returned as the teen blushed and exited the building. He turned in the direction of Bulma's home and Vegeta's upcoming beating session, but drew up short as a bright white fire erupted behind his eyes and in his ears, making him scream out in pain. The outside world disappeared from his vision and was replaced by an unearthly screaming that made Gohan's skin crawl. With a pang of mortal terror, he realized that he was the one making the feral noise.

"Gohan!" A voice cried close to him, and as quickly as the painful fire had erupted in his veins, it disappeared, and with it, Gohan's consciousness. Shortly, Gohan's subconscious kicked back in and drew him nauseatingly back to the here and now. Leary of what his eyes would see, Gohan slowly cracked his eyelids, thankful for the shadow that was thrown across his face, blocking him from the sunlight. Large blue eyes were the first thing he saw, followed by a worried face that was familiar.

"Arale," he whispered. He moaned as she shifted, allowing the bright light of the sun to pierce his retinas.

"What the hell happened to you?" A feminine voice beside Arale asked. Gohan pushed himself to his feet, feeling drained and as if someone had wired his brain the wrong way as he caught sight of Seftee kneeling behind the younger woman. "Are you drunk?"

"No, but I wish I was," Gohan muttered. A crowd had gathered in a loose circle around them, and self consciously, the teenager picked himself up off of the ground and pushed past his lab mates and the surrounding crowd. Arale and Seftee hurried after him until they were off the street and then Seftee attacked.

"Hey! Give, kid, what's up with you? Did you have something to drink and not tell anyone? Or are you experimenting with the fumes from the kitchen? I warned you not to mess with the cafeteria food, didn't I?"

Annoyed, Gohan turned to glance at the girls.

"No, I have not been doing drugs, drinking alcohol, or sampling the food or fumes from the cafeteria, although I doubt it's as bad as you say," he announced. Arale snickered, but Seftee crossed her arms and glared at Gohan, who was suddenly struck by how much the young woman was like Bulma.

"Well then, what brought on your sudden case of Scarlet O'Hara back there?" She asked, insulted by Gohan's flippant attitude.

"My…what?" Gohan tilted his head, unsure of her meaning.

"Why did you faint?" Arale clarified. Her expression was one of humor as she glanced from Seftee back to Gohan.

"I. Did. Not. Faint." Gohan ground out, offended by the suggestion. Arale bit her lip while Seftee grinned evilly

"Passed out, then," Seftee conceded. Gohan growled low in his throat and turned around, fed up with the conversation.

"Never mind," he muttered. A hand on his arm stopped him, though.

"Wait," Arale said. "I'm sorry, we just wanted to know if you were okay?" Something about the way she spoke made the distressed tension in his spine loosen some.

"I'm fine," he repeated, ignoring Seftee's snort of disbelief. Arale narrowed her eyes but quickly glanced away, releasing his arm.

"Okay, just…be careful I guess," she said. Without another word, Gohan left the girls standing where they were and hurried to Vegeta's gravity room, trying vainly to recall anything and everything in the area that could have triggered the sudden attack. It was a concern to him that once again he had been attacked blindly. He had no idea what had attacked him today, but he was curious if there was a possibility it had anything to with the Martian Monkeys or the strange space ship the previous night. With his thoughts swirling, he continued on to the gravity room and his impending ass whipping.


	10. Everyone Feels So Far Away From Me

Blood Lies

Chapter Ten

"Everyone Feels So Far Away From Me"

The next morning, Gohan was awakened by a small body launched directly into his midsection. To go from a deep darkness of sleep to sudden and complete awakening was uncomfortable to say the least and scary as hell to say the most.

"Wake up!"

"Oaf!" Gohan grunted as he doubled over in his bed, the bed covers twisted over his head and around his shoulders smothered him. He jerked and yanked himself up off of the bed, tumbling to the floor in a bundle of arms and legs. Two childish voices laughed near Gohan's head, poking and prodding Gohan's legs, arms, and abdomen, trying to get him to wake up.

"Gohan! What are you still doing asleep?"Gohan jerked and yanked himself fretfully out of his bed sheets at the sound of his mother's voice. Finally, he grunted and ripped the sheets in two, revealing his mother standing before him, her arms crossed over her chest and an annoyed glare on her face. Trunks and Goten landed hard on top of Gohan, calling and smiling happily to the teen and each other.

"Uh, Mom, what are you doing here?" Gohan said, shoving the two children to the floor in his hast to get to his feet. Chichi sighed and moved into the room, letting her arms fall to her sides as she looked around the neat spare room that Bulma had furnished for Gohan's stay.

"Goten has been upset that you have not been home; I thought he might like to come visit you and Trunks both,' she said. Gohan scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair as the two children behind him began jumping on his bed singing a song with a familiar tune. But for the life of him, he could not remember the song.

"Sorry, I was asleep and I was just not ready to wake up yet," he said, a yawn stretching his face. Chichi smiled at him and wrapped her arms around him in greeting. Uncomfortable with the contact, yet trying to keep his feelings to himself, the teen returned the hug.

"What time are you supposed to be at Capsule Corp?" Gohan shrugged and glanced at the two bouncing children.

"Um…I'm not sure." Gohan frowned. _Actually, I don't remember much past dragging my exhausted butt to bed last night after Vegeta handed it to me._ Chichi frowned at him, and Gohan bit his lip readying himself for his mother to start chewing him out, but surprisingly, the brunet woman remained calm.

"Goten, Trunks, run along for a bit, please," she asked quietly. Without a backwards glance, Trunks threw himself through the door, hauling Goten along with him. As the door banged shut, Gohan turned curious eyes to his mother.

"But, I wan Goh'an!" Goten protested as the older demi-Saiyajin pulled him down the hall.

"Are you okay?" He asked, shifting away nervously. Chichi looked at her eldest child, a distant look in her eyes.

"Gohan, I…" she started. " I am worried about you, Gohan. You have been truly stretching your limits lately and I just want to know why." Gohan tilted his head down to look at the floor, agitated that his mother was upset but feeling unable and helpless to change the situation.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Gohan whispered. His heart constricted, and once again, the horrible howling within his heart roared against his ribs. Sudden rage filled hatred lit his emotions and began to burn within him, but he quickly clamped down on the feelings, binding them back up where he bound them before. "I don't mean to."

"Yes, well," she said, turning to look at him fully. "This must stop; you're upsetting your brother every time that you disappear and every time that we get into an argument. Please, Gohan, I just…I just want us to be a family again and not worry about whether or not you're going to be gone again tomorrow."

Gohan remained silent, unable to say anything that would mean anything to his mother and be the truth as well. Because the truth would hurt and the truth was something he could not promise his mother. His father would never return. They would never be a family again. But Gohan had to do his best to take care of his little brother and his mother to the best of his abilities. He just was not sure he could be all of that. At first, all those years ago, he thought that he could do it, but now…Gohan felt cracked and ready to explode into a million pieces.

"Gohan, are you going to say anything for yourself?" Chichi asked. Gohan bit his lip, unsure of what he should say to his mother.

"Mom, I'm sorry, I just…it's been a rough few years, you know?" Chichi wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed.

"I know, Gohan, and I'm really sorry that you've had such a hard time of it all; I wish I could have done more to protect you, Gohan from the fighting and the war…"

"No, Mom, there wasn't anything you could do; it's not your fault." He murmured hollowly, hugging his mother tightly. Chichi pulled back and looked him in the eyes, her matching dark eyes trying to see through him.

"It is not your fault, either," she said comfortingly. Gohan's breath hitched within his chest, but the hounds remained safely in their chains. Unable to stop himself, the teenager pulled away from his mother, eager to close off the dull ache in his heart before it got out of control. He turned and gave her a winning smile.

"Does this mean that I can come home now?"

"Yes, yes, you can come home; although I don't know why you would want to with the Capsule Corporation headquarters right at your finger tips." Gohan smiled.

"It takes all of forty-five minutes to fly here if I don't fly fast," he answered. Chichi shook her head, a smile tugging on her lips as Gohan lead her out the door of his bedroom.

DBZ

That afternoon, Gohan and Trunks and Goten got themselves into a bunch of fun drowning each other in the Briefs' indoor swimming pool. Trunks and Goten thought it would be such fun to gang up on the teenaged demi-Saiyajin and try to collectively drown him. After about thirty minutes, both boys were crawling out of the pool, their lungs burning with the need for oxygen after Gohan had held them under water for unknown amounts of time.

"Hey, I thought you two wanted to drown me?" He asked sweetly eyeing the two sopping wet chibi-Saiyajins as they dripped on the tiled floor of the pool house. Trunks gave him a dirty look.

"I'm going to get my father to come drown you, he could actually do it!" Trunks threatened. Goten merely laughed like a banshee and hurled himself into Trunks, who landed in a belly flop on the surface of the pool. Goten landed on top of the older boy, still laughing like a loon. Gohan smiled at the playful innocence and reached for Goten. Gohan had taken Goten out to the river and lakes that crisscrossed his mountain home since he was an infant (and his mother would let him). Gohan had taken him and taught him everything he knew about swimming, fishing, and water. Goten was a fish out of water, but still, Gohan liked to be cautious when it came to his precious baby brother.

Chichi had even agreed to let Goten learn the basics of fighting and sparing, although she swore that the basics was going to be all her youngest knew. Gohan felt different about it. He did not want Goten to ever feel helpless in situations that Gohan had found himself in when he was a young child. He wanted his baby brother to be prepared and ready for anything that could possibly come his way, so he went behind his mother's back quite often and taught the child as much as Gohan could teach him at that age.

"Look at me!" Trunks cried. Gohan glanced away from his brother's face and noticed that Trunks had ascended into the air, droplets of water raining down his body. He spun quickly in a tight circle and sprayed off as much water as he could. The raining water made Goten laugh harder and lift carefully into the air above the pool. Gohan smiled to himself as his brother's tiny arms wound around his neck, pulling tightly against his Adam's apple.

"Go up!" The little boy squealed loudly into Gohan's ear. The teenager winced but could not help the grin that spread across his face as he lifted into the air. Trunks laughed as Goten wriggled up higher until he was on his brother's shoulders, using whatever he could get his hands on for leverage, which included Gohan's hair, ears, and at one point, his bottom lip.

"Spin, spin!" Goten shrieked. Thankfully, his mouth was farther away from Gohan's ear that time. Trunks dropped back down into the water and shot back up quickly, spinning in place again, spraying Gohan with water as Gohan—with Goten on his back—returned the favor.

"Hey, hey you two," someone said from the ground. Gohan glanced down sideways and found Krillin watching them and shaking off water from his shirt.

"Hey Krillin!" Gohan shouted. "It's been a while since I've seen you, how're you doing?" Slowly, Gohan lowered himself to the concrete floor, his wet feet leaving dark silhouettes. He swung Goten down onto the floor and the little one promptly ran straight for the miniature man.

"Killin!" He shouted happily.

"Whoa!" Krillin said, grabbing both of the child's arms before he could wrap them around his legs and soak his pants.

"Hey, squirt," Gohan said as he scooped up the child. "Krillin does not want you to get him all wet, okay?" Goten pouted, not truly pleased with the suggestion, but turned and struggled to be let down. Gohan dropped him back to the ground and the toddler hurried back to the pool.

"I was surprised to see you were here, kid, I figured I wouldn't see you again until the reunion." Gohan nearly stumbled with the force of the howling within him, barely able to recover quickly enough to turn away, blocking Krillin's view of his expression.

"I…was…I got in trouble and Mom sent me here to labor for Bulma," Gohan stuttered. His heart rate was flickering uncomfortably, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and smeared a smile on his face.

"Apparently she's overprotective," he quipped. Krillin cracked a smile at him, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

"You just now figuring that out?" He asked. Gohan shrugged and glanced at the water to check on the two boys. Goten was screaming playfully as Trunks chased him around the shallow end, blowing water at him.

"I didn't catch everything back then," Gohan whispered. Suddenly weary, Gohan's shoulders dropped and he felt as if he had not slept at all during the night before.

"Hey, I've got to get these kids out of the pool and get them settled for an afternoon nap I think, are you going to stick around for a while or are you gone already?" Krillin glanced at the pool and the happy children playing there.

"Nah, I just came by to say hi to you and your mom. I talked to Bulma earlier and she had mentioned that you were here so I thought I'd drop in. Eighteen will be waiting for me to get home soon, though." He paused and seemed to be studying Gohan's face. Apprehensively, Gohan stilled and froze his expression into what he hoped was casual and pretended to not notice. Finally, after a half second, the older fighter cleared his throat, capturing Gohan's attention.

"Listen, Gohan, I was wondering how you have been doing lately? We really never talked much about your dad or—"

"Gee, Krillin, I'm not sure that I really want to now, either," Gohan interrupted. Krillin arched his eyebrows in surprise and looked at Gohan, who shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry, Krillin, I just don't feel like rehashing the past, you know? It's been nearly four years; I think I'm ready to let it be." Krillin pursed his lips together tightly and watched the teen closely before he sighed and dropped it.

"Well, I guess we'll see you at the reunion, right?" Unable to speak, Gohan merely nodded his head, wordlessly agreeing. Krillin frowned as Gohan turned away to head back to the pool.

"Okay, guys, out ya get Little Monsters," he called to the cackling youngsters in the water. Trunks sported massive pink cheeks from the exertion due to all of the chasing that they had been doing, while Goten was laughing so hard that his lips were nearly purple.

"I'll see you soon then, Gohan," Krillin said. "You take care and call if you need anything." Gohan waved him away without saying anything more, but a chill behind his breast bone lent an ominous feeling to the air in the sunny pool room. Gohan reached down and pulled each child out by an arm and set them on the ground.

"You know, I think I heard Bulma say something about ice cream after we were done in the pool, what do you say?" Gohan asked Goten as he wrapped the two wiggling bodies in towels and then each arm as he carried them from the pool house.

"Yea!" Goten hollered happily. Trunks yawned and then rested his head on Gohan's shoulders, his blue eyes slowly blinking closed. In the other arm, Goten—apparently catching the sleepy bug—took a deep breathed yawn before he, too rested his head on his big brother's shoulder.

"Love you, Brother," Goten whispered as he dropped off. Gohan's heart warmed at the affection in the child's voice, but the combined dead weight of two demi-Saiyajin's being carried like he was carrying them was putting a strain on his back and the grip in his hands. He was strong, but if it was an awkward load, there was only so much one could do. He bit his lip sharply, trying to quickly cart both boys far enough into the house to be able to enlist someone's assistance. Regrettably, the first person he came upon was the Prideful Prince of the Saiyajins.

"Vegeta!" Gohan groaned. "Vegeta, help me, please!" The older man had apparently been on his way to the kitchen, but stopped and threw Gohan a nasty look when the teenager called his name.

"I'm busy," he snapped. Gohan jumped the two boys up higher in his arms, trying not to lose them both to the hard floor beneath.

"No you're not, you're just saying that to be an ass," Gohan returned, not really in the mood to by civil to the warrior. Vegeta narrowed his eyes in a dangerous way and leveled them on the teenager, a malicious growl issuing from within his chest.

"Watch your tongue, boy," he warned quietly.

"Whatever, just help me out here," he replied, brushing off the threat. Vegeta raised his eyebrows, turned around, and began to walk past him.

"Fine, then I guess you want me to drop your Royal Son on the floor? Typical. Exactly the kind of parent I always knew you would be." Vegeta spun around, his eyes blazing red, murderous fire.

"Do you _want_ me to kick your ass?" He spat. Gohan bit his lip as Trunks started to slide out of his arms.

"No I want you to grab your son before I DROP HIM!" He whispered furiously. Vegeta nearly snatched the blue haired child out of Gohan's arms, leaving the teenager struggling to balance himself back out. Goten's little fingers curled protectively into Gohan's clothing, making a distant part of him ache. To Gohan's surprise, Trunks reacted much the same, curling himself tighter against his father, his pale fingers disappearing into the soft blue folds of Vegeta's gi. In response, the arrogant man actually cradled the child tighter against his chest.

"I love you, Daddy," Trunks whispered. The breathy words shot through Gohan as if he had been slapped. The words echoed in his head and reverberated in his chest, sending quick waves of pain crashing against him.

_Don't leave me, Daddy. I love you, Daddy._ The forgotten words from so long ago pierced his very soul and left him raggedly struggling for breath. Weakly, Gohan shoved his little brother at the Prince, his demons screaming at him to run and fly and cut while his brain ticked off only one thought. Escape.

"What the—" Vegeta began, but Gohan had spun around and raced from the room, its occupants, and the memories that burned against his heart. Goten had been awakened by the sudden movement and struggled away from Vegeta, his wide, not quite awake expression crumbling as Gohan left him. A deep, hollow pain filled and shattered within Gohan as his baby brother cried out after him, his small voice growing distant.

"Go'an!"

DBZ

Gohan flew as soon as the sky became visible, the air popping around him in a hurry to get away from the fleeing teenager. Blindly he flew, unsure of his destination and uncaring of where he ended up. He simply flew, afraid to touch down, afraid to slow his pace. Vegeta's reaction was uncharacteristic and even more so unexpected, leaving Gohan struggling to fight away the demons that howled after him like hounds.

_He's dead_! The teenager screamed to himself. He shook his head angrily, furiously trying to force the heartache out. Why was he this way? Is this the way he was to live for the remainder of his life? He wrapped his arms around his chest as he flew, the air crackling apart in a sonic boom. At the back of his mind, Gohan realized that he was in trouble and that he needed help, but he was too hurt, too far gone to ask for it. He could not let it happen that way; he was supposed to be the strong one and yet his emotions were slowly dragging him under, drowning him until he couldn't breathe past the heavy feeling. Added to the other random feelings was a rage that shook him and made him fearful.

Gohan closed his eyes and slowed his pace, allowing his flight to carry him. His ki warmed him fully, helping to ease the deep anger and burning that filled his young chest, pulsing through him to his fingertips.

_**Gohan?**_ Piccolo's thoughts interrupted Gohan's flight. The teenager slit open his eyes and watched the earth below as he responded to his sensei.

_**Yes?**_

_**Are you okay?**_ Gohan inhaled deeply and considered the question. There was a part of him that wanted to admit the truth and beg his mentor to help him, but the other part, the part that held the vicious creatures that screamed in his dreams, knew that he was too far gone for help. So he answered his mentor.

_**Just kind of having a hard day, you know?**_ Gohan swallowed heavily and began to drift to the ground below, his heart hammering within his chest, his blood rushing just beneath the surface. _**But I've got to go; I promise I'll catch up with you tomorrow, okay?**_

There was no mental reply to Gohan's thoughts, but he sensed that his mentor was becoming slightly uneasy with Gohan's random excuses and the intense emotions that rolled off of him. The teenager just could not face his friend yet. He did not know how and was not even sure if he would ever be ready to face him.

Quietly, Gohan touched down to the ground, his shoulders and knees trembling so severely that he sat roughly on his rear. He curled his knees wearily up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, vainly trying to ease the disturbing vibration within his gut. His face felt warm, as if he had been sitting much too close to a camp fire, while his eyes stung from the cool air that he had been flying through. He took a huge breath of air and blew it out, his ribs complaining from the movement. Mechanically, the teenager reached again for his mode of self-medication: the silver metal razor with in his sash. With shaking hands, he brought the razor up as a single, terrified tear broke loose and dripped down his cheek, disappearing into his dark gi.

But this was his challenge. This was his 'lot in life.' His father had been protector of the earth, but Gohan was not enough to fit that requirement. At nearly fifteen he was still too young to fight a battle and win, that realization had left a bad taste in his mouth, but as he sat there, his dark eyes watching the blade in his hand glint against the bright sun light, he also realized that he _was_ in control of himself. He supposed his ability to shove his fear and hatred down into tight cages was a talent unto itself.

Gohan felt deeply exhausted, which frustrated him because he had been sleeping plenty lately. In fact, that was one thing he had been quite able to do recently. All the same, the teenager laid back, grateful for the shade of the cluster of great trees between him and the sun, and rested his head on the hard ground. He curled onto his side, concentrating on the way that his breath pushed in and out of his lungs and tried to focus all of his thoughts directly on this simple, yet necessary bodily mechanism. He demanded that his consciousness block out the hurtful thoughts and images that had brought on this most recent attack and commanded his body to sleep.

His subconscious must have obeyed quite well because a few hours later darkness was dripping over the landscape as Gohan twisted awake from a nightmare that set his shoulders to quaking again. Stiffly, the teenager set up and glared up at the slivered bit of moon that hung in the night sky as he took a deep breath. He still held his arms tightly across his chest as he pushed against the confines of his nightmares, desperate for relief from the heartache from within. Like a drug, the tiny silver blade on the ground beside him sang out to him, urging him to do the only thing he could to fix the situation. Resigned, the teenager reached for the razor, fingering the cold metal as he brought it closer. As he pressed it to his forearm, he wondered if the darkness within his heart would ever cease; whether the screaming that terrified him during the daylight and night hours would ever be silenced. Blood seeped to the opening of his fresh wound and quickly soaked into the white long sleeved under shirt that he had donned that morning, staining it a frightening crimson.

With the dangerous need curbed for the moment, the teenager rested back on the ground again and stared at the dark sky above, and as his eyes drifted closed, he wondered if the strange space ship would be back.

This time, high in the heavens, a pair of eyes watched, and ached silently for the lost and lonely child. Nodding his head, the guardian held his head up and walked away from the edge of the Lookout. Sometimes there were more important things than sleep.

DBZ

"Chichi, will you relax?" Bulma said from behind the younger woman. Chichi jumped and spun around at the sudden voice.

"I can't," she breathed. "I can't seem to sit still long enough." Her eyes were red-rimmed and blood shot from the amount of crying that she had done over the past few hours, while her arms were wound tightly across her chest.

"Chichi, Gohan can take care of himself, remember?" Bulma said, silently promising Gohan a severe tongue lashing when he reappeared. "This is not the first time, Chichi; he has run off again. He'll be back in the morning wearing a sheepish expression and a sorry excuse." Chichi's lips pursed tightly as she considered that.

"He said he would not do this anymore," she whispered raggedly. She turned beseeching eyes to the blue-haired woman. "Are you sure that Vegeta will not go look for him?"

"No," Bulma said shaking her head. "Vegeta swears that Gohan is not under distress and that he refuses to go chasing after a rebellious teenager in the middle of the night." Chichi sighed and dropped her arms to her sides.

"He's right," she whispered. "Gohan has done this plenty of times before. I know he'll be home tomorrow, but I just am so worried for him, Bulma! Why won't he talk to me?"

"He's a fourteen year old boy, Chichi, since when do they ever make sense?" Bulma turned and gestured for the other woman to follow. "I've set Goten in with Trunks to sleep tonight and have you a room ready. Why don't you get some sleep tonight and we'll go out to your place in the morning? I need to set up a couple more Capsule houses anyways."

With a resigned sigh, Chichi curled her arms tightly around her middle and stared out of the window, her dark eyes watching the slivered moon as it rose high into the night sky. She pressed her lips together and angrily considered her precious elder child. _Gohan, my precious, precious, son. What are you doing? Where are you? Are you __**ever**__ going to be okay again? Oh Goku, I'm losing this battle. I can't seem to keep him on the right path anymore. I wish you were here. _

Cool, crystalline tear drops raced to her chin and dripped to the floor below. Chichi felt as if she had been fooling herself for four years. Instead of loosing her husband that horrible day, she was slowly realizing that she had lost her son then, too. Sometime along the way, Son Gohan had begun to disappear and became the hurt, angry teenager that paraded around in his likeness, but he was not the precious child he had always been. Chichi felt shattered and frightened to realize that she had not been able to protect her son at all. Even now he was somewhere in the darkness without her. A teenager left on his own and fighting against everything he had ever known.

DBZ

The next day dawned brightly over Capsule Corporation, creating a feeling of cheer that did nothing to the heavy feeling of hostility tinged with emotional turbulence. Chichi was quiet as she rounded up her younger child and the meager belongings they had brought with them the day before and loaded them into a Capsule Corp. aircraft. For the most part, Goten remained brooding and quiet: something very unusual for the child, who appeared more often than not to have ended up with a strong dose of his father's happy-go-lucky attitude. Not even the purple haired Trunks could cajole the little boy away from his melancholy. Although Trunks dragging Goten into sabotaging Vegeta's boots to stick to the floor did bring a slight ghost of a smile to the younger's lips and brightened Chichi's morning. That is until Bulma had to run interference between Vegeta and the younger Prince of the Saiyajins.

All in all the morning was ruined by the thick undercurrent of complete upset that ruled the youngest Son child and his mother. The ride in the aircraft—always before a treat for the little boy because of his adoration for anything that involved flying—had been a subdued affair. Goten had sat unhappily in his mother's lap, never begging to get down or reaching for the thick glass windows on the side.

Once home, the situation remained the same. Goten refused to be pulled into a happy state while his older brother was gone. He sat outside with Trunks, but batted half heartedly at the other as Trunks flew around his head, trying to elicit any response from the little boy. It simply broke Chichi's heart to see her child so upset.

"I hope Gohan comes home soon," she sighed. She was at the sink, rinsing dishes while Bulma had pulled out her laptop and quickly clicked away on a program. Distracted, Bulma muttered something that resembled 'He will,' and continued typing away on her program.

Chichi glanced at the older woman's frowning face and shrugged it off. She scrubbed the huge black pan that she had last used, chagrinned to find that food bits had been stuck on in a permanent way. She sighed and used a dirty spatula to try and scrape the stuck on bits of yuck into the sink and down the disposal and try not to think about the first boy that had captured her heart from the very moment that she felt him within her womb.

DBZ

For a second time, Gohan found himself sneaking into his room by way of the huge window that over looked the side yard. He quietly crept across the room to the door and gently pressed it closed, figuring his mother and Bulma were both in the kitchen. As he turned around, however, he came face to face with the stark, rigid expression of the Prince of the Saiyajin.

"Finally sneaking back home, brat?" He sneered. Gohan's heart trembled as Vegeta's sharp eyes roved over his bloody clothes.

"Perhaps you have something to explain?" He growled low in his throat as Gohan's defiance kicked in and he lifted his chin. Vegeta's right hand shot out and snatched Gohan's left wrist, shoving his shirt sleeve up his arm, painfully exposing the frightening lines that crisscrossed his forearm. Gohan tried to pull his arm away, but instead, Vegeta yanked the teenager closer until they were nose to nose.

"Listen well, little boy," he whispered dangerously into Gohan's face. "You are playing a very dangerous game and although I could not care less if you killed yourself, there are those that I _do_ care for who would be hurt by it."

Gohan whimpered as Vegeta tightened his hold, making the bones in his wrist squeeze together. Vegeta was quiet for a moment, his black eyes glaring sharp daggers into the teenager's flesh, but before he could add anything to his previous threats, Trunks and Goten ran screaming into the room.

"I don _want_ to Twunks!" Goten cried in aggravation as he ran into Gohan's room and stumbled against Vegeta's legs. His eyes widened and a grin appeared on his face and before either Saiyajin could make a move, the little boy shrieked and threw himself at his brother.

"Go'an! Where ben?" Goten cried happily, oblivious to the crimson blotches of blood on his shirt. In a matter of seconds, the stampeding footsteps down the hallway announced the coming judgment to the appalled teenager. Before Gohan could either lunge through the open window or sink into the floor, his mother appeared with Bulma on her heels.

"Gohan!" Chichi cried, relief mixing with exasperation in her strained voice. "Where the hell have you been?" She asked. She froze in her steps as she took in the blood on her eldest son's clothing, contrasting violently with the clean, oblivious child that Gohan held. To the demi-Saiyajin, he felt that his mother for once had hit it right on the head: he had been in hell on earth for four years.

"What—Gohan, what is this blood from?" she asked, her voice rising in inflection until both Vegeta and Gohan winced from the tone. Bulma had remained silent up until this point.

"Eew, give me Goten and you go clean that off!" She said, frowning at Gohan as if it were completely normal to have splotches of blood on one's clothes, as if mud had dared hitch a ride into the house from the garden. Goten clung tightly to his brother's clothes, angry that Bulma would suggest that he should not be with his brother, but reluctantly released his grip when his brother handed him over to his best friend's mother.

"Trunks," Vegeta snapped, attracting the child's attention before gesturing that he was to precede his father from the room. Bulma followed the boy, her blue eyes worried while Goten's thumb was stuck firmly in his mouth. Gohan's heart fluttered unhappily as he watched his baby brother until the door closed.

"Gohan I am still waiting for an answer," Chichi snapped. Her quivering fists were jammed angrily against her hips, but her eldest merely tugged his bedroom door open and silently walked into the bathroom. Speechless, Chichi stood stock still for a moment, still trying to calm her wildly beating heart before she followed the teenager to the bathroom and opened the door, gasping at Gohan's bloody, scarred flesh across his arms and torso.

"Gohan…" she whispered. Gohan spun on her, his expression livid.

"Get out!" He shouted. Frozen where she stood, Chichi stared at the fourteen year old with a feeling deep within her heart that she struggled not to name. Unbidden, the emotion named itself: fear. Carefully, Chichi moved closer to Gohan, although her face was devoid of color and she could hardly breathe. Gohan's chest heaved with his deep breaths, but he kept his mouth shut as she approached.

"What has happened to you, Gohan?" she whispered raggedly. On the floor at her feet, lying forgotten and barred on the tiled floor was the silver case and the razor within it. The tiny case had popped open on impact and the razor had bumped out to lie across the opening of the case. Stupefied, Chichi bent over and retrieved the little blade, fingering the sharp edge with a thrill of fear so deep and strong that her shoulders shook. "Gohan…"

Looking up, Chichi caught the teenager's eyes and trembled with open terror at the foreign, naked anguish that she found there. Gohan had always had so many facial features like his father, that few people ever looked close enough to realize that the child had several of his mother's mixed in as well. One of the things Gohan had ended up with was Chichi's dark round eyes that tended more toward expressive emotion than laughter like his father's, or his little brother's. At that moment there was no joy, no glimmer of hope buried within the dark orbs, and for once in the four years since he husband's death, Chichi realized that Gohan was nearly lost. And it terrified her to realize that she didn't know if she could stop his decent into darkness. She did not need the child's confession to understand what the thin jagged lines of not quite healed flesh and splotches of dried blood on his clothes represented now. She knew without a doubt what she had known all along: Gohan had never grieved. And now he tried to bleed his heartache away.

_Oh Kami_, Chichi thought. _Goku help me_!

"Gohan—"

"I'm taking a shower," he informed her. Numb and not capable of full thought, Chichi allowed him to push her away as he stepped into the shower and tossed his clothes over the curtain. Her throat felt dry as she backed out of the bathroom and pulled the door too before she drifted into the kitchen. Bulma stood near her mate, having a hushed conversation as they watched the two youngest demi-Saiyajin's play out in the yard.

"No," Vegeta was saying as Chichi appeared in the doorway, but Bulma cut him off and rushed to Chichi's side as the brunette's knees gave out and sent her to the ground.

"Oh, Kami, Chichi, it's alright, here let me help you," she said. Quickly she got Chichi sitting down at the little wooden dining table. Bulma pushed her sleeves up her arms and bit her lip, pushing a lock of blue hair out of her eyes and behind her ear as she glanced around the kitchen, trying to find words to say. Instead, her eyes lit on the water kettle on the stove.

"Oh Bulma!" The younger woman wailed. "What do I do?"

"It will be okay, Chichi, we'll figure something out," Bulma answered, glancing at Vegeta as she filled the kettle with water and then lit the stove before she set the kettle on the stove. "What did he say?"

"Nothing!" Chichi cried. "He's just…Oh he's just lost!" She sobbed again, using her apron as a tissue as she covered her wet eyes with the material. Bulma's eyes were large and firm as she stepped around the table to wrap her arms around the younger woman's shoulders, trying to give comfort.

"Don't cry so, Chichi, you'll make yourself sick," Bulma soothed. She pulled out a chair and settled herself into it next to Chichi.

"You didn't see his eyes, Bulma." Chichi whispered, her sobs calming enough to speak rationally. "He is hurting so much and I just didn't catch it! He's fourteen! I am his mother and I should have caught this and—I just _knew_ something was wrong!"

"Chichi, you shouldn't blame yourself, he's old enough to make his own decisions," Bulma said. The shrill squeal of the kettle broke into the conversation. Bulma glanced at the kettle and then toward her mate's pained expression as she rose and hurried to the stove. A few moments later she set a steeping cup of tea on the table before Chichi and settled one before her own chair. Vegeta looked as if he were asleep standing up with his back pressed against the wall and his muscled arms firmly crossed across his chest. He appeared to be ignoring the whole exchange, but Bulma knew that he was fully aware of his surroundings—including the present conversation.

"He's still just a child, Bulma," Chichi argued. "He needed me to be there to help him!" She curled her arms around her stomach, her pale face nearly gaunt white with grief. "I should have known better," she whispered painfully.

Bulma pursed her lips together, but remained silent. Instead, she glanced again at her mate, surprised to see his black eyes pop open and glare through narrowed slits at the doorway. Not two seconds later, Gohan appeared wearing a clean gi a mirror image of the bloodied one. His face was pale with the dark, bruise-like shadows beneath his black eyes. Bulma's eyes narrowed as she looked to his arms trying to see any of the cuts she had spied before but his arms were covered by the dark red undershirt he wore.

"Gohan," Chichi said, her voice wavering as she stood and faced him. The teenager seemed calm, but a niggling of fear had settled into Bulma's gut as Gohan looked his mother in the eyes.

"Gohan," Chichi repeated. "I—"

"Don't worry, Mother, I'm fine," Gohan interrupted. "I know you are upset, but don't worry about me." Chichi's expressions dropped, a frown marring the skin between her eyes as she stared in disbelief at her eldest son.

"Gohan, you are _not_ fine! You are _cutting_ yourself and have been for—" Chichi stopped speaking, her eyes widening in sudden alarm.

"Gohan, how long have you been doing this?" She asked slowly. Behind her, Bulma stared at first Gohan and then the back of Chichi's head while her mate had remained where he was, quietly watching the mother and son. Gohan's expression remained devoid of any emotion as he answered his mother.

"Not long," the teenager answered mildly. Chichi moved closer to Gohan.

"Gohan, we're going to get you help, okay? I'll make sure that you're taken care of!" Chichi promised. However, her words had a negative effect on the teenager, his expression darkened a degree, his black hair lifting away from his face momentarily as he vehemently shook it.

"No!" Gohan said sharply. "I don't need _anyone's_ help!" Vegeta shifted and stood away from the wall, his expression still threatening, but Gohan ignored him. Chichi's mouth tightened into a thin line, her annoyance at Gohan's response obvious on her face.

"Gohan, you need help," Chichi insisted. "You are not handling your father's death as you should."

"I'm fine," Gohan repeated firmly, his eyes were hooded. "You're over reacting."

Chichi's expression became angry at those words. Bulma thought the woman would explode; instead she stormed past her son and down the hall, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment. She returned, tears flying from her dark eyes.

"Gohan, what is this?" she asked her voice cracking as she shook the bloody clothing and sticky razor at her son. Gohan backed up all of the way into the kitchen, his mother a step away the entire time. Trunks and Goten had rushed in at the suddenly raised voices and watched in confusion. Bulma stepped forward to get rid of them but Vegeta turned them both around and shoved them out of the door, pulling it firmly to. Vegeta turned and placed his back against the wall again, his gaze meeting his mate's for a moment before returning to the mother and son.

"Gohan, answer me!" Chichi shouted, any idea of being calm thrown out the window with the implications of that single blade. She wanted Gohan to tell her what it was; she wanted Gohan to admit it to her. Gohan, who had looked so shocked, now had an infuriating look of indifferent calm plastered on his face. His black eyes rested on his mother calmly, while his hands were fisted into balls at his sides.

"Gohan, I expect an answer!" Chichi cried, frightened by the unusually emotionless countenance on her elder son. Gohan slowly shook his head.

"There's nothing to say, Mother; you're just overreacting, that's all." Gohan's voice was low and did not hint at all at the turmoil within. His heart was racing with the terrifying feeling of his carefully controlled existence slipping through his fingers. He racked his brain quickly, struggling to get his head to cease throbbing long enough for him to come up with a way out of this confrontation; he needed to get away from the frightened look in his mother's eyes. Behind Chichi, Bulma, also, had a stunned feeling about her, but Vegeta just leaned against the wall; Gohan had the unpleasant feeling that the Prince enjoyed watching him in the hot seat.

"Overreacting? Overreacting!" Chichi's voice raised an octave. She was loosing him! _ Oh, Kami! Goku! Help, please! Your son needs you and I don't know what to do!_ She thought helplessly. "Gohan, I want to know now! Do you hear me? Tell me what you are doing with this and why your clothes are covered in blood! Tell me!" Chichi held up the blade with two fingers.

Gohan winced at the sight of his mother with the blade, but refused to back down. Then he felt something new; he felt something that made his heart fall all the way to his shoes: Piccolo's ki growing closer and closer. Gohan's breathing became labored, all pretenses of calm evaporating while his eyes widened with shock; he looked around, struggling to figure a way out of this mess. Far beyond being rational, Gohan snatched the razor from his mother before blasting clean through the large picture window. Trunks and Goten screamed as glass flew, covering them in sharp, glittering shards. Gohan didn't stop when he gained his freedom; not even pausing to catch his breath, he shot off into the sky at braking speeds. The adults stood there, momentarily stunned, until Bulma swung around to her mate.

"Vegeta, you have to go after him!" Vegeta opened his mouth with a ready retort, but instead he rolled his eyes, jerked open the door, and leaped into the sky after the teen. As an after thought, Bulma ran outside and yelled after Vegeta's retreating form. "Go find Piccolo!"

"That won't be necessary," said a gruff voice from behind Bulma. Bulma spun around to the sight of the very tall Namekjin hovering above her with his arms crossed. He had a deep frown marring his features as he surveyed the area—noting that Goten and Trunks were covered in glass and looked frightened—and glanced in the direction of Gohan's and Vegeta's ki's. Bulma had never been so happy to see the former Demon King.

"Piccolo, it's a really long story, but go after them! Gohan's in trouble!" Bulma said, breathless. No sooner had she got the words out than Piccolo shot off in the same direction as the other two. Praying that Gohan would be okay, Bulma turned to the two boys who sat on the ground, covered in tiny slivers of glass and staring at her.

"Chichi..." Bulma started, spinning around to walk back into the house and fetch the astounded woman, when she almost smacked into her. Bulma peered at Chichi, noticing the firm set of her jaw and the way her eyes would tremble ever so slightly. Suddenly, Chichi shoved a small machine into Bulma's hands and glided past her, stooping down to reassure the two chibis on the grass. Bulma almost laughed out loud when she noticed she held a small hand-held vacuum. Shaking her head, she sighed as she turned it on and started for the two glass covered little boys.

DBZ

_Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_ Gohan berated himself as he flew, keeping a close eye on the skies behind him. _ I've never been so careless before_ he thought. _ Yes you have._ Gohan gasped as scenes of the Cell Games invaded his aching head. _ You were careless then, too. You just can't seem to do anything right, can you?_ Gohan shuddered as his guilty conscience criticized him. _Well, at least I got away…_ A second ki joined Vegeta's and it was one that made his heart run cold. Piccolo was coming.

Gohan's speed had lessened upon this realization as fear crept into his entire being. He didn't want Piccolo to see him; he didn't want to disappoint his sensei. Angry tears sneaked into his troubled eyes as he thought back over his predicament. How could he have been so stupid? Gohan bit his lip; he was stuck now. His mother would want to 'get him help' and now that Piccolo was chasing him too, he would want to know the truth. Gohan shook his head, angrily loosening the tears in his eyes. _ No more tears, Gohan. Focus. You have to get yourself out of this. _

Even as Gohan thought these things he knew that the only way out might not be something he could do.

DBZ

At the same time, Vegeta followed the brat slowly, feeling the Namekjin's's ki shoot up and quickly pursue him and the child. Vegeta slowed down as much as he dared to without the chance of loosing the boy; this would go much better if the brat's favorite person was nearby. In mere seconds, Piccolo caught up with Vegeta and caught his eye.

"You won't catch a cold flying this slowly," he said sarcastically. Vegeta growled at him and sped back up, Piccolo kept pace and glanced at the Saiyajin out of the corner of his eye. "What happened? Bulma just said Gohan was in trouble. Why did his ki shoot up a little while ago?"

Swearing that Kakarot's brat would regret making him chase after his sorry butt, Vegeta raised his voice to be heard over the roar of the wind. "The runt had been at Capsule Corp, but ran off yesterday afternoon. Kakarot's woman stayed with us last night; Bulma brought her home this morning and demanded that I find the little punk." Vegeta growled in fury. He cut his eyes to the side as he continued. "This isn't the first time that the brat has disappeared overnight lately; he said he was with you the second time."

Piccolo's scowl deepened, alerting Vegeta that his hunch had been right: the brat had not been anywhere around the warrior. Vegeta quickly filled Piccolo in on the rest of the disturbing events.

Piccolo's thoughts were almost murderous. He had just known that something was off with his student and after his deeply disturbing— and very enlightening—conversation with Dende, he now knew more of what had been going on for who knew how long. Gohan had been deeply disturbed by the death of his father. Add Goku's ridiculous refusal to return, and Gohan had been distraught, but it had disappeared after a few weeks. Gohan had been almost completely normal. _ I should have known that something was wrong when he juts acted as if nothing was wrong. The kid wouldn't have just recovered like that._ Feeling ahead of them, Piccolo brought his mind close to that of his student's.

_**Gohan**__,_ he sent telepathically. Sometimes their ability to share thoughts and words in this way had been very useful. Piccolo felt feelings of fear and panic come across before he was shut out. Piccolo barred his teeth in a half snarl and sped up. _ Kid, when I catch you, you have a date with the Demon King!_


	11. Bleed It Out

Chapter Eleven

"Bleed It Out"

Chichi was quite numb. Sitting carefully on her knees in the bathroom, she only half-watched as Bulma bathed their boys; Chichi couldn't get the memory of her son's blood out of her mind. _ Oh, Goku…_she thought. Guilt had mixed firmly with a strong anger that shook her. She loved her son; both of her sons! She knew that Gohan had had a rough time of it and wanted nothing more than to hold him and heal his hurts; but this, she realized, was beyond her abilities. When he was a little boy, whenever he fell down and scrapped his knees, she had always calmed him by giving him a bone crushing hug and a sweet from the box of sweets at the top of the cabinet. After Gohan had spent the year with Piccolo, she had been happy to see the expression of sweet innocence on her son's face at being able to fly to the top shelf to retrieve the sweets himself.

"Momma," said a small voice from in front of her. Chichi blinked a few times to see Goten, wrapped tightly in a towel and standing before her. Chichi's eyes welled with tears and she wrapped her arms tightly around the wet little creature and swore silently that she would protect him. "Momma, where Go'an?"

Chichi sniffed and pushed Goten back so that she could look into his face. Hearing another sniff Chichi glanced over and saw Bulma holding an upset Trunks in her lap, drying off his lavender hair. Chichi caught Bulma's eye. "Let's get you two dried off and we'll go have some milk and cookies. How's that? And while you two eat, we'll talk about Gohan, okay?"

"Talk about Gohan, what?" asked a voice from the doorway. Krillin stood with one hand on the side of the door and looked at all of the faces in the room. "What happened, and why is the front window shattered?" Chichi sighed and glanced at Bulma; this was going to be a long day.

DBZ

Somewhere far away from earth, a man hovered and executed some very intricate moves. His breathing was relaxed and easy, but his spirit had been quite restless for the past few weeks and he couldn't figure out why. Changing his direction quickly, Son Goku lashed out at an invisible enemy before flipping himself over in mid-air. Suddenly, he was struck by the feeling of someone watching him. Turning, Goku looked down at the tiled floor and saw a small young man with white hair and mocha colored skin. Goku smiled.

"Naru! How are you? It's been a little while since I've seen you," Goku greeted happily, descending to the ground. Naru shifted rather uncomfortably and looked Goku in the eyes. He had been sent by King Yema to retrieve the Saiyajin. Sometimes, being King Yema's personal assistant had its down side.

"Goku-san, it is imperative that you come with me now. King Yema has several things that need your attention." Goku frowned, his thought automatically turning to earth.

"What is it, Naru? Is there another threat?" Naru's eyes shifted, trying to ignore the man's eyes. Instead, he turned and beckoned for Goku to follow. Goku slowly followed with a feeling of dread edging its way into the back part of his mind. What could be wrong now?

Silently, Naru lead Goku to King Yema's, but once he entered the check point, Naru bowed respectfully to King Yema and backed out of the room. To his surprise, King Kai stood to King Yema's right, his arms clutched tightly behind his back.

"Okay, I'm here, what gives?" Goku asked, his expression curious. King Yema swallowed.

"Goku…would you like something to drink, maybe? We have coffee, tea, water, sake—whatever you could want."

"No, thank you, King Yema, I feel kinda weird about all of this, so if you would just please tell me what this is all about—"Goku started.

"Goku, Gohan is in trouble!" King Kai blurted, giving King Yema a rather dirty look. Goku's face shifted into a look of alarm. He swiftly crossed to stand before King Yema's desk.

"What's wrong with my son?" he demanded. King Yema sighed, his shoulders drooping.

"Gohan has been…doing things that he shouldn't," King Yema said delicately. He hated these emotional, high-tension conversations! Goku shook his head, obviously not understanding. King Kai cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Goku, Gohan has been cutting himself," he said softly, watching as Goku's eyes widened.

"But, why would Gohan do that?" He asked, moving to sink into a chair nearby. King Kai watched his face grow confused.

"We are not entirely sure why he has begun doing this, but we have a feeling it has something to do with you," King Yema offered.

"Me? Why?" King Kai brought his clenched fists up in front of his chest and growled at Goku. Sometimes the man could be so _dense_.

"Because you're dead, you moron!" he shouted. Goku's eyes finally registered the remark and his surprise turned to anger.

"But he understood why I was staying here; he said he understood!" King Kai looked as if he were ready to burst and throttle the warrior.

"Never mind, Goku, we must think of what to do now," King Yema said, interrupting King Kai's inner struggle. Goku looked up at the giant silently. "It is important that earth not loose Son Gohan," the big man whispered. He looked down on the papers before him and then back up at Goku.

"I have an idea, and I'd like to see if you would be interested." Goku cocked his head to the side, listening closely to King Yema's plans.

DBZ

Gohan was growing tired, but he flat refused to quit. His head was still pounding angrily and the wind blowing on his face didn't help; he still was not fully recovered from the large amounts of blood he'd lost the day before. Dimly he was aware that the two adults behind him were gaining on him ever so slightly; Piccolo was coming closer and closer.

Gohan shuddered at the thought of his mentor. Earlier, he had quite angrily blocked the telepathic bond with his sensei and he knew there would be a long 'discussion' about that later. Being fused with both Kami and Nail had made Piccolo almost adamant about respect. Although he had always drilled it into Gohan that he would respect those who deserved respect, he had recently gotten down right forceful about it. Fear crept its way into his eyes again as he felt his strength ebbing slowly away and he knew that he would have to face them eventually.

Suddenly, a thought forced its way into his mind and he quickly dropped to the ground below, knowing that the forest would hide him for a time. He grabbed hold of the vast amounts of power in his life and jammed them as far down as he could push them, effectively hiding the largest amounts of his power. Now all he had to do was stay hidden until the two warriors gave up. Gohan knew how ridiculous he was being; those two would never give up, but Gohan's mind was so worn out that he had to do _something_.

Surveying his surroundings, Gohan found a clustering of large chunks of rock that set together in almost a crescent shape. He ran quickly towards the rock and lowered himself to the ground, leaned his back against the course rock, and waited.

DBZ

"Damn it!" Piccolo cursed as he watched the boy drop suddenly from the sky and plummet into a group of trees. Vegeta growled low in the back of his throat and shot forward, Piccolo close behind. They slowed until they hovered above the tall canopy of trees, staring down into the green foliage.

"We could just blast the whole thing," Vegeta suggested, his voice tinged with annoyance and anger. Piccolo shook his head, although the idea actually sounded like a real good way to scare the daylights out of the rebellious teen.

"No, we may accidentally injure him, and from the way he felt a moment ago, he doesn't need to be any more damaged than he is." _Although I'm still going to kick your butt daily for the rest of you life for this, kid,_ he thought.

"He is Saiyajin! He will not be hurt…much," Vegeta growled sardonically. Piccolo frowned and shot Vegeta an eye roll. Aggravated, the Prince crossed his arms and turned to face him.

"Well, we're not doing any good just floating here; do _you_ have any suggestions?" Vegeta asked viciously. Piccolo reached out with his mind once more and realized that the mental block had been forgotten at some point. Grinning evilly, he reached out his mind to touch that of his young friend.

_**Gohan**__,_ he thought. He felt his student shudder mentally at the brush of his sensei's mind, but Gohan left the link open. In a small voice, Gohan reached back.

_**Piccolo-san, please, just leave me. I don't want to be chased anymore. I just want to be left alone**_. Piccolo almost flinched at the raw emotion that accompanied the mental plea. Piccolo looked at Vegeta.

"He wants us to leave him alone," Piccolo said. Vegeta grit his teeth and seemed to almost burst with the effort it took to keep himself from blasting the forest to nothing.

"Tell him that if he doesn't show his damn face right now and stop this nonsense I will personally make sure he gets to see his father again!" Vegeta spat angrily. Piccolo cocked an eyebrow and returned to his student.

_**Gohan, I am not just going to disappear and leave you to continue on the way you have been. We need to discuss some things. **_Piccolo felt the fear and intense hurt emanating from the child. Shaking his head, Piccolo did something he didn't really want to do: he followed the link back to Gohan, feeling exactly where the kid was. Turning to Vegeta, he beckoned for the Prince to follow and descended slowly through the foliage, drifting closer to where he knew the boy was hiding.

DBZ

Gohan's body seemed to take on a life of its own and began shaking and shuddering so violently, that his mind went blank. He reached hungrily for the thin razor in his gi and pressed it hard against the tender flesh of his exposed collar bone, slicing through the skin easily. Gohan's head swelled as if it were about to burst before the pressure in his head released as his dark eyes slit open. His young face became a mask as he watched blood drip slowly into the dark material of his gi before he shut his eyes and allowed a shudder to run through his body. He reveled in the sweet sensation of warmth twining its way down his young chest, satisfied when his box of trapped emotions howled, but remained where they were. But as the blood began to swirl quickly from his body, Gohan's mind swam back into focus and he realized with a start that someone stood to his right. Turning, his eyes widened at the sight of the Saiyajin Prince in all of his glory. Gohan leaped to his feet and began backing away from the angry man.

"Going to run away again, boy?" Vegeta snarled, his eyes glancing at the fresh wound on the boy's chest with disgust. Gohan stilled and clenched his fists. Vegeta laughed.

"You're not really considering fighting me, are you?" Gohan didn't move or say a word, but his large, shuddering eyes spoke volumes of what he would do to avoid this particular confrontation. Vegeta smirked.

"Fine, have it your way. We'll just have to take him back by force," Vegeta said, speaking over Gohan's head. Any blood left in Gohan's body drained from his face as he stilled and slowly turned, the familiar ki behind him causing his young body to shiver.

Piccolo, Son Gohan's closest friend, and one of his strongest influences, stood behind him. Piccolo's eyes glinted with a deep anger while his fists were clenched and his brow furrowed. His broad shoulders were tense and straight beneath his cape; to Gohan, he was one of the most frightening creatures alive at that moment. Gohan scampered backwards clumsily, staring in horror at his sensei before he tripped and fell flat on his bottom.

Vegeta and Piccolo closed in on him quickly, towering above the young demi-Saiyajin. Gohan shut his eyes, waiting for the first blows to fall, all the while, feeling the wound on his chest grow stiff and crusted. At least he wouldn't have to worry about bleeding to death. The blow he expected never came; instead, he felt a cool feeling breeze past him and looked up to see Piccolo, kneeling before him. Piccolo's eyes still held the faint hint of extreme anger, but he didn't make a move to touch him.

"Gohan, you need to come back home with us. You're mother is very worried about you," he said, hoping against hope that he could talk to the child. Gohan's built, warriors body trembled and shook while his face flushed with some unspoken emotion before he roughly shook his head.

"Brat, you can either come back with us on your own, or we can _force_ you to come back," Vegeta threatened. Gohan looked from Vegeta, who stood with his clenched fists at his side, and then back to Piccolo, still kneeling before him.

"Why, Gohan?" The tall man asked; his eyebrows pulled down into a severe frown. Gohan scooted back away from the Namekjin and struggled wearily to his knees before raising all of the way to his feet. Piccolo followed suit. Silently and systematically, Gohan shut down each and every emotion, not answering his sensei. Instead, he stared ahead, choosing to glare at the white cape around Piccolo's neck than to answer. Vegeta growled angrily, beginning to wish he could simply beat the living daylights out of the brat. Gohan shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment.

"I'm not a child," Gohan finally whispered. "I am fine." Vegeta stepped forward menacingly.

"What of your father, brat?" he asked. Vegeta was pleased to see the blank look drop off of Gohan's face, replaced by a look of absolute shock mixed with terror. Vegeta continued. "What would noble Kakarot think if he knew what his prized child has been doing?"

"My father doesn't have a say in what I do anymore! He's dead!" Gohan snapped, his ki spiking up around him. Again his grief filled his heart, but as so many times before, it did nothing to cleanse him. Just as quickly as the power ignited, it receded and left Gohan, trembling, and slowly coming undone. His eyes were clenched shut and his arms wrapped tightly around his middle, trying to bring some bit of comfort to himself, but Gohan knew that comfort was something forbidden, something dangerous to the rigidness that he had created in his mind and heart. Self protection was the most important thing in that moment in time, and Gohan was not about to allow something else to endanger the fragile existence that he had created after Goku's death. Piccolo exchanged looks with Vegeta before cautiously stepping forward.

"Gohan, you need help," Piccolo said softly. Gently, he reached a hand towards the confused teen and was surprised when Gohan allowed the contact. Piccolo relaxed a bit as he firmly gripped Gohan's trembling shoulder.

"I won't go back," he said, his voice low. Vegeta growled.

"You do not have a choice," Piccolo said firmly. He reached for the teen with his other hand, but Gohan was ready and sent a ki blast directly into his chest, where it exploded, tossing him backwards as Gohan fled into the air. Bursting out of the trees, Gohan turned his head around to watch for the two adults when a heavy punch landed on the back of his head, sending him spiraling to the ground. He landed heavily into Piccolo's awaiting arms, and was able to look up into his beloved sensei's face before his eyes shut and his body became limp.

"Humph, that got the kid's attention," Vegeta's voice sounded far away as darkness closed in to sweep away the pain.

DBZ

Gohan sensed something strange the moment he began to awaken. Dimly, he could sense many different people around him and also heard bits of conversation.

"I just don't understand why he would do something like this!" That was Krillin. Someone shifted and something cool was pressed against his forehead.

"No one understands, Krillin," Bulma answered.

"Well, at least they found him before he did something worse," Eighteen whispered.

"Goku would be shocked," Krillin said.

"He would be more than just shocked," his mother said softly. Gohan's body tensed at the direction of the conversation and decided to open his eyes. His dark eyes swam eerily, but when they cleared slightly, they focused in on the Namekjin sitting on the floor across from him. Blinking rapidly, Gohan quickly turned away from Piccolo's gaze and sat up slowly. He was tucked into his bed in his own room. He was home.

_Damn it!_ Gohan thought violently. The swift influx of emotion had its toll on the young man and he groaned before leaning heavily against his pillows. Confused, he blinked again, alarmed by how weak he felt, almost as if something had sucked away his strength.

"Gohan," his mother's voice questioned softly from beside him. Gohan spared her with a small look, before squeezing his eyes shut in denial. This was not happening! _Oh yes, it is._ The dangerous voice in the back of his mind told him. _You have been caught, and now they will all see you for what you are: a disappointment! _

"Gohan, please, open your eyes and talk to me!" Chichi's voice had raised slightly, her tone frightened. Gohan continued to ignore his mother, but one voice spoke that he couldn't ignore.

"Gohan, open your eyes." It wasn't a request. Gohan sluggishly opened his eyes and looked into Piccolo's intelligent eyes. Gohan winced at the anger that was not visible and knew that it was aimed directly at him. He shuddered to think of what would happen to him when he was completely healed.

"How do you feel?" was the Namekjin's's surprising question. Gohan shut his eyes wearily, not wishing to continue on with that particular conversation.

"How do I look?" he replied sarcastically. Piccolo snorted while his mother uttered a shocked sound in the background.

"Gohan!" his mother didn't appreciate disrespect.

"You looked like shit before, kid, but you look much worse now that your ki has been bound," Piccolo said, his voice holding a rough, pleased tone. Gohan's eyes snapped open as he realized what the Namekjin had said and upon reaching for his great amounts of ki, found that the bulk of it was locked. Gohan had nothing to fall back on.

"What do you mean, 'bound'?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly. In the back of the room, he noticed that Dende stood with Krillin, his eyes wide and terrified. He stepped forward then, to explain, reaching down and lifting Gohan's right hand up off of the bed. Confused, Gohan noticed for the first time the cold, hard shackle that encircled his wrist. Roughly two—nearly three—inches wide, the band was snug against his skin with a smooth, hard exterior.

"Bulma has invented a wristband that can tap into your power and lock it away; she thought it a wise invention since there are so many young children with great power running around here. A child that could level a city with a single temper fit is dangerous," Krillin added, chuckling at his own comment. Gohan swung his gaze to Bulma, who stood beside the door with Krillin. She nodded and gave him a serious look.

"Gohan." Gohan turned his eyes to Dende once more. "I have healed the majority of your wounds, but you lost quite a bit of blood; I couldn't rejuvenate you totally, so you're going to be weak for a little while. I need to return to the Lookout now that you are awake." Dende squeezed Gohan's hand tightly in his own.

_**Be well, Gohan. Please, do not give up**__._ And then Dende was gone with a nod to Piccolo.

"Gohan, we're going to let you rest now. Call if you need anything," Bulma stated, gently tugging Chichi away from Gohan while ushering everyone else out of the room. Piccolo stood looking down at the teen a moment before following them out.

Gohan lifted his right arm and examined the silver contraption encircling his arm. It was surprisingly strong, but then again, Gohan was so weak he couldn't have taken it off if he had actually tried. _Damn thing_! Groaning both from pain and regret, he slumped back against his pillows again and examined his bed spread as if it were the number one thing on his mind. What was he going to do? He covered his eyes with a hand and bit his lip.

His heart seemed heavy, even for him, but he took a deep breath, reinforced the ties, and ignored the howling, before he tried to stop the maddening thoughts. He had so much on his mind; it felt as if it was going to simply explode. He wished for a way to just fall asleep and not wake up to this horror.

_Daddy, what do I do now?_ He thought, but his heart shivered and hardened. _It doesn't matter what __**he**__ thinks anyways. He's dead._ Gohan pushed himself deeper into his pillow and forced his eyes to squeeze shut. _I'll run tomorrow,_ he thought. Reaching up with his left hand, he traced a finger gently over the long cut along his collar bone, and felt himself begin to lose consciousness again.

DBZ

A few hours later, Gohan awoke with an overly warm little body tucked up next to him. He frowned at the light in his room, figuring it to be early evening by the light filtering in. Beside him, snoring softly, was his baby brother. Gohan had to admit that he was mildly surprised that his mother had allowed the little boy to be around him at the moment, much less leave them unsupervised. The light that did reach into his room, sliced a light blue streak of brightness across Goten's face, drawing Gohan's attention.

Almost reverently, Gohan brought his right hand up and gently ran his pointer finger over the soft curve of Goten's baby cheeks. Something tightened inside of Gohan's chest as he realized that Goten was nearly the same age that Gohan was when he went to train with Piccolo. _But my brother will never know the terror of the battle until he's ready; hopefully he will never experience that fear._

But Gohan knew that life was not fair and very rarely went the way it was supposed to. If it did, Goku would not have had to die to show Gohan how badly he had screwed up. Feeling fully exhausted, Gohan curled his arms around his little brother and snuggled him up closer. Silently, he promised himself that Goten would never have to face the heartache that Gohan had.


	12. On Top Of Broken Trust

Chapter Twelve

"On Top of Broken Trust"- Linkin Park

"Now, Goku, are you sure that these plans will please you?" King Yema asked again. Goku was standing, looking out at the other world, knowing that how he answered was permanent. _But my son needs me,_ he thought. His eyes narrowed with the thought of his son. Gohan needed to know all of the things that Goku needed to tell him right then. Gohan needed a father, and Goku wasn't about to fail.

"Goku?' King Kai's voice pulled Goku away from his thoughts and back to the task at hand. Goku smiled his smile and waved at them.

"Of course, anything to help Gohan!" he said, his cheerful voice effectively cloaking the thoughts in his mind.

"Very well, then we will place you on the Lookout and you can take it from there," King Yema said, nodding his head in agreement. This was forbidden, everyone knew it, but after much discussion and arguments between those above him, it was decided: they needed Son Gohan enough to break the rules. There were too many things that were directly attached to the child not to do something at this point, and risk his self-destruction.

King Yema hesitated as he watched Goku prepare. "Goku," he began. The warrior turned his attention toward the giant man. "This will not be an easy road. Be prepared and…good luck." Goku nodded and smiled.

"Thank you, King Yema, but we will be fine. I'll take care of Gohan." And then he was gone, whisked back to the earth.

_I hope you are willing to fight in a battle where your enemy is none other than your son_, King Yema thought. _I do not think you understand fully how far this has gone, Goku._

DBZ

A cry from outside his window woke Gohan and caused him to rise, blinking, from his pillows and swing his legs over the side of the bed, noting that Goten had disappeared. Gently, he stood and realized that his little nap had indeed improved his health and his strength, although his full strength was still locked away due to Bulma's damn contraption. Moving gingerly to the window, Gohan gripped the window sill tightly and pressed his forehead to the slick glass. Gohan quickly sucked in his breath, causing his chest to cinch up and tighten. Beyond the window, beyond the mist from his breath, Gohan saw the one person who could destroy him, and he nearly fell over.

His father was home.

Gohan had a strange stirring within his soul at the sight, but knew that it was not a good feeling. So many emotions filled the teen as thoughts of his father's previous choice to stay in the other world caused Gohan's body to still and his face to heat up. The stubborn prison that Gohan had filled with his more vicious memories and destructive emotions rumbled loudly, beyond the vibrating hum of his rapidly pounding heart All of the images that Gohan once held of what he would do if ever he saw his father again disappeared as the reality of truth invaded his subconscious and leaked into his mood.

Gohan hated the tall, happy, powerful man that stood outside his window. The man he had once admired more than any other person, the same man who had played with Gohan and taught Gohan so much was now the same person whom Gohan hated beyond anything he had ever known. Clenching his teeth angrily, Gohan could feel the bulk of his power struggle to answer his call, but due to the band on his wrist, Gohan was stuck simply staring angry holes into the back of the man's head. Gohan started when his father glanced over at his window and caught him watching. _Oh no,_ he thought, but his father simply glanced at him before turning his attention to the family and friends around him.

Gohan's breath left him as he realized that his body was trembling from the anger and intense hatred that flowed viciously through every vein in his body. He craved release from the shivering and wished for a way to bleed as he stood, staring out of his window. His father stood out there, surrounded by those who loved them both, but Gohan was different. Gohan wasn't just a child anymore. He had been thrown into something important and had failed miserably. He was a failure and it was made worse by his father's choice to leave him. Gohan turned angrily and clenched his jaw at the memory. His father had denied him. He had wanted his father to rail at him and come back and tell him that he had really messed up, but that it was okay, because he was loved and safe and it was over. Goku had denied him. He had announced that he was going to stay dead and by doing that, he had sealed Gohan's fate.

_Well, at least I don't have to pretend to be something or someone I'm not anymore_, Gohan thought sarcastically as he wearily sat back down on his bed. He had no wish whatsoever to go out and speak to the man he owed his entire existence to, but he couldn't help but feel the need to blast through the window and attack him. Gohan flopped back onto his pillow gently, wincing from the dull ache that had started in the back of his head. Curling onto his side again, Gohan shut his eyes, but just as quickly wrenched them open again as visions and memories paraded into his mind.

_Damn it! What does he think he's doing here? He was better off just staying wherever he was._ Gohan crossed his arms over his chest carefully and quickly commanded the things in his mind to stop moving. He was not going to give Goku the satisfaction of knowing that he was hurting. He didn't need Goku! After all, he had been just fine for almost four years now, and if Goku thought that he was simply going to walk back in and take over the father roll, he had another thought coming.

DBZ

Goku turned his attention back to the various questions from those he loved. Chichi had curled herself tightly against his side while Goten watched him, an odd expression on the small boy's face. Goku smiled at the little boy, and was a bit surprised when the hefty toddler reached out towards him. Goku's heart thrilled as his youngest son snuggled happily into his arms. So many thoughts and memories flew through the Saiyajin's mind. Memories of Gohan when he was the same small body, regrets that Goku had not been able to be present for some many little things in Goten's life. He smiled gently at his younger son and tightened his hold slightly. Watching, Chichi's eyes filled with happy tears as her youngest son smiled the famous Son smile and curled his small fists into his father's gi.

"Papa," he said quietly, his face mirroring Goku's. Goku smiled brilliantly and lifted the little boy into the air before settling him safely back into his powerful arms again. Shifting, he put an arm around Chichi and stood there for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of his small family in his arms.

"Goku," Chichi whispered, "I need to talk to you about Gohan." Goku opened his eyes and gazed down at his bride with an odd tenderness in his black eyes.

"I know, Chichi, I know." Chichi was surprised and slightly worried by the odd tone of Goku's voice. Pushing away from her mate, she studied the black eyes. Now was not the time for questions as the queries and joy from all of the friends present assaulted Goku at once. Goku grinned at Krillin, who had managed to catch his eyes. So many people that he loved had been left here when he chose to stay dead.

"Goku, are you going to answer Krillin?" Chichi asked, tugging on Goku's shirt. Goku blinked and turned to his wife with a look of confusion.

"Answer what?" he asked, turning around to look at Krillin again. Krillin shook his head and smiled. Goku hadn't changed. "I asked how you ended up here again. You're dead, remember?" Goku grinned easily and shrugged.

"King Yema said that it would be fine to visit, so, well, I decided to," he finished. He noticed the glare that Vegeta was giving him from the rear of the small crowd around him and nodded a greeting. The older Saiyajin narrowed his eyes in response, he was too dignified to admit that he was actually rather pleased that Goku had returned—it would make for a healthy sparring session; if Vegeta could ever pry the idiotic man away from his adoring fans, that is.

"How long do you have, Goku?" Bulma asked quietly, she had shrieked like a startled banshee when the man had first appeared, but now she felt the indubitable urge to either throttle him or hug him; she hadn't decided which. Goku tilted his head and rested his cheek on Chichi's head, his affection for his wife etched easily onto his face.

"I'm not sure; however long it takes, I guess," he answered. Bulma raised her eyebrows in question, but Chichi beat her to the question.

"'However long' what takes?" she asked, her dark head lifting from her husband's shoulder to meet his eyes with her own. Goku nearly crossed his eyes in irritation at his foolish choice of words.

"Oh, you know," he started. "I just meant that I'm not sure whether I can stay the full four days for the reunion or if I'll have to be back by a certain time." Lying was most definitely **not** his forte, to say the least, but he did not wish to reveal his now permanent undead position just yet.

"Oh," was Chichi's quiet reply. Goten seemed to notice that the conversation was over and suddenly deemed it the correct timing to announce that he was hungry. Rather, he was _starving_, he was sure. Understanding this simple bodily function as he did, he proceeded to handle it how any other three year old would: he began to whine loudly.

Goku was bewildered and unsure of what to do when the tiny Saiyajin in his arms began to emit a loud wail. The sound pierced his very sensitive ears and made him look down at the creature in his arms in absolute horror, but Chichi came to his rescue and scooped the little one away from him before Goku could decide what course of action to take.

"What's wrong, Little Love?" she crooned as she settled the fussy munchkin in her arms and cast a happy smile at her husband. He had always been a very good father; he had even taken Gohan out for short walks whenever Chichi had felt that her world was about two inches away from disaster, but there were a few things that Goku had never been good at. One of which was dealing with a crying, upset, hungry, and tired toddler.

"Hungwy!" Goten complained miserably. Chichi shushed him and moved toward the house, her heart fairly bursting with the love she felt at that moment. Her family was complete—if only for a short time—and she knew that Goku had a plan that involved Gohan. Goku would know how to reach him, she just knew it!

DBZ

Later that day, the daylight slowly drooped behind thick, grey clouds that threatened rain, and lots of it. The sunlight shimmered orange and sparked high into the sky above the clouds. It resembled an orange that had been sliced in two and squeezed, the juice flying in all directions. Below the flying juice was thunder and lightning that bounced around with in the clouds and appeared dark and frightening, but at the same time offered a promise of a good cleansing. It was a dramatic back drop for the two balls of energy that sailed through the sky and sporadically collided with each other.

Vegeta had finally received his wish and was, at that very moment, trying his best to make Goku a resident of the center of the earth. The other warriors—for the others had heard that Goku was back and had hastened to the mountain—along with the women and the children, were lying back on the cool grass and watching the two. Chichi had pulled three large blankets out and had them spread across the grass for Bulma, the young ones, and herself to lounge on, while some of the others resided on comfortable outdoor furniture that Bulma had provided.

The children, especially, were enthralled with the action in the sky. Trunks, after witnessing his father and Goku, took it upon himself to instruct little Goten in the art, but Bulma quickly called a halt after Goten went flying head over heels. Krillin was lying with his head in Eighteen's lap, his eyes drooping in content, while Marron played with Trunks and Goten. Eighteen's blue eyes watched her daughter sharply, but also occasionally glanced into the sky to watch the two above.

"They go up so high, don't they?" Chichi whispered to no one in general. Goku barreled into Vegeta and both disappeared momentarily below the line of trees. A sharp explosion was felt in the ground and raced up into the tree tops as a ki blast lit the darkening sky.

"It feels so good to have him back," Chichi whispered. Bulma glanced at her and patted her arm.

"We've all missed him, but I know that you've missed him the most," she commented. "You have never let anyone see how you felt, but we all knew." Chichi's eyes quickly filled as the words entered her heart and took hold. She had missed Goku so much in the time that he was gone, that perhaps she had missed the signs that her eldest son was giving her.

Chichi blinked away the moister, but the thoughts remained; she turned her attention toward her home and, specifically, her son's bedroom. When they were preparing dinner, Chichi had asked Goku to check on Gohan and see if he wanted to eat, but Goku returned fifteen minutes later and said that Gohan was still asleep. She had left it at that, although the look in her husband's eyes was…odd to say the least.

A small body landed in her lap and tugged her from her thoughts. Startled, she looked down into the deep brown eyes of her younger son. Goten grinned happily up at her as she help him back up onto his feet. Her hand strayed to brush against his forehead and shift aside the few ruffled strands of hair, Goten smiled easily at her before he charged at Trunks. The two boys tumbled to the ground and laughter bubbled up into the air.

Marron tilted her tiny blond head to the side and watched the boys with guarded, careful eyes, her tiny fingers fiddled idly with the wide white ribbon that was sewn into a bow on the front of her blouse. Her quiet body language drew Chichi's attention away from the other children and Chichi watched silently the strange expression on the child's face. Without warning, Marron's blue eyes ripped away from the boys and flew towards the wide expanse of trees to the south of their location, her widened eyes the only indication of anything amiss. She stumbled backwards toward her parents as Chichi sat up, leaned over to grab Goten and Trunks, her own black eyes scanning the line of trees for anything that could have distressed the little girl.

"Chichi? What's wrong?" Bulma asked. Before Chichi could answer, Marron's tiny expression crumbled and great tears began to cascade down her face, a wail bubbling forth to drown out Chichi's reply. Alarmed, Chichi swung her gaze back to the line of trees where the little girl had been starring. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in a gasp as she caught sight of a strange, black creature as it scampered deeper into the darkened trees.

"Chichi?" Bulma asked from beside her. The blue haired woman lifted Trunks into her arms, her eyebrows drawn down into a frown as she glanced from the little blond girl back up to Chichi. By this point, the others around them were sitting up, trying to catch the cause for the disturbance.

"I…I thought I saw...something," Chichi whispered, still clutching her son tightly in her arms. Her heart pounding wildly in her chest, she swung her eyes back to Marron where she sat in her mother's lap. Eighteen and Krillin were hovering around her, trying to figure out what was wrong with the tiny girl.

"Sweetheart, there's nothing out there," Eighteen soothed. Marron shook her round head, her twin pig tails slapping against her mother's neck.

"No! I saw them! They're bad monkeys and they want to hurt him!" she cried. She lifted her little hands and covered her ears, monstrous tears dripping steadily down her cheeks.

"What is she talking about?" Yamcha asked Krillin. The monk shook his head and frowned, worry carving deep wrinkles into his face.

"I don't know," he whispered. "She keeps saying that there is something in the forest; something bad. And that 'they want to hurt him.'" Krillin sighed. "She has been having nightmares for the last few months, and we can't seem to get them to stop. She has started seeing things while she's awake, too."

"Oh no!" Marron shouted. Her spine went rigid while her eyes grew to three times their normal size. "They found her." Eighteen screamed as her daughter began convulsing, her large, blue eyes rolling back into the back of her head. Piccolo, who had been hovering a distance away from the two Saiyajin, dropped down to the clearing where everyone else was at Eighteen's scream.

"Marron!" Krillin shouted. Panicked, Eighteen stood suddenly, the twitching child in her arms, and shot into the sky, Krillin following quickly behind her; Yamcha and Puar shooting off after them. Stunned, Bulma and Chichi exchanged looks.

"What in the world?" Bulma asked.

"Where are they going?" Goku asked as he dropped from the sky, breathing heavily. Vegeta landed directly behind him, obviously annoyed at the intrusion. Bulma shook her head, bewildered.

"Little Marron had a seizure," she supplied. "She was mumbling about some monkey that wanted to hurt someone and then…" Bulma shook her head and clutched Trunks close to her side.

"She screamed 'they found her' and then she passed out and started to shake," Chichi continued. Goten had started to cry, upset by all of the activity. Chichi snuggled Goten safely against her side, scanning the forest again. Piccolo narrowed his eyes and looked off into the direction where Bird was.

"Goku," Chichi began. "I think I saw something out there." Trembling at the remembered vision of the monkey-like thing she had glimpsed, Chichi pointed a finger into the trees. She turned and looked at her husband.

"Something isn't right, Goku; I think Marron actually saw something." Goku turned to scan the line of trees around the clearing, ignoring Vegeta's snort.

"She's a child," Vegeta snorted. "They see their shadow and they're afraid."

"Hmm," Piccolo uttered. Goku glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Piccolo?" he asked. The green skinned man flicked his gaze toward his one time nemesis, his eyes narrowed.

"Goku, there's something you need to know."

_AN: Okay reader dudes! There dear ficcy friends is the answer to the number one question I have been asked since starting this thing! I hope everyone enjoys it._


	13. Sick of The Hunger

Chapter Thirteen

"Sick of the Hunger"

-Linkin Park

Gohan sat with his desk chair hoisted back on two legs, his feet on his window sill, and watched the goings on outside as the mini-Reunion continued without him. Dimly, he realized that today was his birthday, but something within him just didn't care. In fact, he hated the day and the meaning behind it, although he knew his mother had baked him a cake and most likely had bought him a present or two. For the last four years, his birthday had signified his father's death and nothing more. Thankfully, when his room had been searched for other razor blades, his mother had not known to look under one of the floor boards and had therefore missed Gohan's spare. A new, three inch long cut graced his left forearm, almost to his elbow. He had settled down the blood thirsty yowling within him, for the moment. He bit his lip and glared out at the line of trees, thinking of his father's visit to his room earlier.

"_Happy Birthday, son!"_

_A tap on his door had been his only warning before Goku had stepped in, a smile on his face, and reserved eyes. Gohan had jumped up from where he sat on the bed, but not before Goku's eyes had glinted darker at the sight of Gohan with a fresh cut on his arm. _

_Goku had been dressed as he always had been, his orange gi crisp and smelling like fresh flowers and warm air, but as he approached Gohan, the teen's heart had sped up and thudded against his ribs. Goku walked into the room and stood before Gohan, his shoulders back and his hands resting on his hips. _

'_Gohan,' he had said. He had reached down, gently grasped Gohan's wrist, and turned it over, showing the new cut along his son's forearm. 'Show me what you used to make this.'_

_Gohan had frowned and jerked his arm away, anger boiling just under the surface of his skin. Goku's hand had remained where it was, his black eyes not changing as he had slowly kneeled before his son. He had laid his right hand on Gohan's knee, tilting his head to catch the teen's matching dark eyes. _

'_Gohan, how could you do this? Do you have any idea how much you have worried your mother?' Goku had whispered, his voice tinged with hurt. Gohan had stiffened and had looked away, before he had pushed way from his father and had escaped over to the window. Goku had stood slowly, still watching him. _

'_Gohan, what did you use to make those marks? That is a new cut and your mother said that they had searched your room.' Gohan had stood there, his back to the man and his heart pounding steadily in his chest. Goku had quietly approached and had laid his hands on either one of Gohan's shoulders, forcing him to turn around. Gohan had tried to pull away; had tried to push the man's hands off of his shoulder._

'_Let go!' he had snapped. Goku's grip had become almost bruising. _

'_Stop it, Gohan,' he had ordered. 'Give me whatever it was that you used now, or I will take it from you.'_

'_Go back to hell," Gohan had snapped, his face turning red. Goku's lips had tightened in a way that was unfamiliar to Gohan before the man had jerked him away from the window, toward the bed. Frustrated, Gohan had swung at him, which Goku had caught in a tight fist and had quickly spun Gohan around to yank it painfully up behind the teen's back. _

'_That will be enough of that,' he had said. Gohan had winced, but had not known what else to do, so he remained still, his hatred bubbling inside him. Goku had shifted his position and grabbed his other wrist, capturing it in the same hand as the first and tightened, before he had begun yanking on Gohan's gi, pulling the shoulders down before working on the undershirt._

'_What are you doing?' Gohan had demanded, but Goku had ignored him and continued pulling his shirt off to drape around his upper arms. Thankfully, the bite marks had healed mostly and looked no different than the other wounds on the teen's chest. Once his chest had been exposed, Goku had walked him to the long mirror on the back of his closet door and had shoved him to stand in front of it, his own face reflected over Gohan's shoulders. _

'_Showing you what you have done,' Goku had whispered. Gohan had looked at the thin lines—about four or five of them now mostly healed thanks to Dende—and did not know what to say. He had tried to wrench himself away from Goku, but the Saiyajin's grip was too strong. 'Now what did you use? You need to tell me now, or I will find it anyway and then you will be in trouble.'_

'_Let go!' Gohan had shouted. Goku had met Gohan's eyes in the mirror, resolve burning deep within the gaze. His hands had tightened painfully against Gohan's wrists._

'_I'll ask once more,' he had said, a warning in his voice that Gohan had never heard before directed at him. 'What did you use?'_

_Stubbornly, Gohan had lifted his chin, refusing to answer. Goku had sighed, his grip still tight. _

'_Okay, son, but I did warn you.' Gohan had nearly passed out from shock as his father had done something he had __**never**__ done before; something that Gohan never, in thousands of eons would have believed that he would have done. _

_He had reached back with his right hand and swung, connecting with the back of Gohan's gi. Gohan had flinched and lifted his shocked eyes up and locked them with Goku's as his father had swatted him three more times. Time had seemed to stand still for Gohan, unbelief clogging his thoughts; they had not hurt, but just the shock that his father had actually __**done**__ it was what had the teen so startled. _

'_You are going to tell me where it is,' Goku had ordered again, his voice rough. Gohan had trembled and had not really known how to respond, but he had glanced into the mirror toward the front right pocket of his clothes. Instantly, Goku had reached around and had pushed his hand into Gohan's pocket, retrieving the razor and sliding it into his own pocket. _

'_Are there anymore, Gohan?' Goku had demanded. The teen had blinked his eyes and had pulled himself away from his shock, to glare at his father through the mirror. With a sigh, Goku had raised his hand threateningly._

'_No!' Gohan had snapped, annoyed. Goku had smiled sadly back into the mirror and had released Gohan. The teen had spun around quickly to glare back up into his father's black eyes, but Goku had just turned and wordlessly walked from the room. _

Gohan sighed, his gaze returning to the outdoors. That was nothing like what Gohan had expected for their first meeting. He was not sure _what_ he had expected, but his father _spanking_ him had never crossed his mind. After he had left the room, the howling within Gohan seemed to accelerate in volume and intensity, making Gohan want to smash his head against something.

The pounding head ache he had had a few days ago had returned with spare troops to dig relentlessly into Gohan's brain cells, making his thoughts weak and confused, and as sleepy as it made him, Gohan could not seem to calm himself enough to relax. _For fucking sobbing out loud, my father just returned from the dead and instead of leaving him here and going off on my own, I'm __**grounded**__ to my room until my parents release me!_ The incredulous thoughts raced around in his skull as the light outside dripped closer to dark. Ki signatures from outside of his window told him that Vegeta and his father were having a fight, but the direction that they were was out of Gohan's line of sight from his window.

Soon, Gohan realized that more faces and shapes had begun to show up as more and more of the Z Fighters showed up. Vaguely interested, Gohan leaned forward and crossed his arms on the window sill, resting his chin on his arms. He could see Krillin and Eighteen with their little girl; Marron was the girl's name, Gohan thought.

She was cute and very…odd. She was surprisingly smart for a three year old, and had a way of looking at people that was slightly alarming, but she was adorable. Gohan snorted as he wondered what it was like to have a baby sister. Goten was fun; he had distracted Gohan's horrible existence several times in the past, but still, Gohan wondered.

Gohan turned to thoughts of Bird after that, and he wondered what the girl was doing; even more, he wondered if he would ever find out who she was searching for. He had not even tried, he realized sadly, and now that he was under house arrest, he doubted that he would be able to.

_Forget them,_ he decided suddenly. _I can sneak out of here if I have to, but I'm not going to let her down; she needs me._ Gohan closed his eyes for a moment as his heart twisted painfully. _I can't fail her; I __**won't**__ fail her_!

Sudden shouting from outside, reached Gohan's ears and he lifted his head, his eyes snapped open, searching the dimness. He saw his mother, Goten in her arms, huddle close to Krillin and Eighteen, his shoulders tensed. Farther away, Piccolo landed, his cape ballooning up behind him; Bulma moved closer to his mother with her son in her arms. Gohan narrowed his eyes, confused as to what was going on until Eighteen scooped up her daughter and shot into the sky, Krillin, Yamcha, and Puar hot after her. Gohan stood slowly, rested his hands on the window sill and leaned closer to the window as his father landed, Vegeta following close behind.

_Okay, that's it_, Gohan thought, irritated that he had no idea what was going on. Quickly, he crossed his room and slung open his bedroom door, sprinting for the front door. As quiet as he could be, Gohan crossed the yard, approaching his friends and family. Alarmed, he watched his parents talk for a moment before everyone turned to Piccolo, curious.

"Goku, there's something you need to know," Piccolo said as Gohan crept closer. A tendril of dread leaked into his heart and settled into the pit of his stomach at Piccolo's words, but he remained quiet and undetected, waiting for Piccolo to betray him.

"A few nights ago, Gohan went to the outskirts of Satan City because of an explosion. He was attacked while he was there by these…monkeys," Piccolo announced. Goku frowned and cast his gaze off into the night again. "They bit him, but then they just left; Gohan doesn't know what they were."

_Okay, I can deal with him telling Dad about those_, Gohan thought. He bit his lip in indecision. If he just backed away, he could cover himself with the forest trees and go check on Bird. _It's not like they'll just let me go check on her_, he thought.

"Have you seen them since?" Goku asked. Piccolo shook his head.

"No, but they can absorb ki blasts." Chichi inhaled sharply.

"That's going to make it difficult," she said. "Do you think these things were after

Gohan specifically? Or just because he was there?"

"I don't know; I did not get there until they were already all over him." Goku's eyes narrowed in thought. Silently, Gohan backed away, steadily making his way to the tree-line. His heart thudded desperately in his chest.

_If I can just manage to make the trees_, he thought. _ I might be able to get to Bird before anyone notices that she is there_. An explosion rocked the earth beneath Gohan's feet, from the direction that Gohan had been going. He spun around and noticed birds jet into the sky, away from the trees.

"Gohan!" Chichi's voice snapped from behind him. He did not turn around, but instead jumped into the sky, his ki trembling as he began to fly in the direction of Bird.

"Gohan, wait!" his father called from behind him, but Gohan ignored him and continued on. A solid orange wall appeared directly in front of him, blocking his path.

"Stop," Goku ordered. He reached out and took hold of Gohan's shoulders, forcing the teen to look him in the eyes. "Where are going, Gohan? You don't have any power, what are you going to do if something is out there?"

"I don't care!" Gohan shouted at his father. Goku looked up and tossed his head toward the blast, signaling for Vegeta and Piccolo to go without him.

"No!" Gohan cried. He began to panic as the two warriors flew toward where Bird was. Frantic, Gohan dodged and tried to rush past Goku, but the older man merely reached out and caught his upper arms.

"Gohan, go back to the house; you are not going. You have nothing to fight with." Gohan, his eyes wild and panicked, met his father's desperately.

"Dad, please, my…friend is over there; I can't let Vegeta hurt her!" Goku glanced in the direction of the blast again. His hands were strong against Gohan's skin, and as he turned back around, he rubbed them briskly, comfortingly. The action brought Gohan's internal whispers to a full fledged scream, clawing hungrily to escape. Gohan ripped his arms away, an angry, wild glare directed at his father. Goku looked slightly shocked and very hurt by the action, but he brushed it off and turned away.

"Go back to the house, Gohan; stay with your mother and I'll take care of the rest," he ordered over his shoulder. Gohan looked ready to argue again, but Goku's gaze was so _severe_ that Gohan remained quiet. His shoulders heaved as he drew in much needed oxygen, but he stayed suspended in the air where he was, anxiously watching the forest.

_Please, please, let Bird be okay_, he thought. His heart still pounded viciously within his chest, his fingers twitching anxiously. He realized with a grim sigh that his father had spoken, had given him an order, and he had obeyed without question. He shook his head, annoyed by the reflex, but he vowed he would break it no matter how long it took.

_No time like the present_, he thought. With a dim glint in his black eyes, he rushed forward, ignoring his mother's frantic voice as she called out to him. Gohan fisted his hands and pressed his ki into his flight, eager to reach Bird's sanctuary.

Quickly, the trees thinned into the little clearing where Bird was, and with a jolt of horror, Gohan realized that Vegeta had his hand leveled on the little android. He scanned quickly the rest of the area and noted that his father and Piccolo were farther away.

"No, Vegeta!" Gohan screamed as he landed on the ground between the Saiyajin Prince and Bird; Vegeta's long fingers did not twitch once as his hand leveled on Gohan's chest. Gohan raised his hands defensively. "Please, Vegeta, don't hurt her!"

"Move, child; I have no problem shooting through you to get to her," Vegeta warned. Gohan lifted his chin, challenging the man.

"Gohan," Goku said as he landed behind Vegeta. Goku tilted his head to the side and glanced between Gohan and Vegeta, as Piccolo dropped down a few feet away. In the Namekjin's hand was one of the monkey creatures, its head hanging on by just a few wires. Apparently they were electronic.

"Gohan, I told you to stay at the house," Goku sighed. Gohan glared at him.

"I don't follow your orders anymore!" Gohan snapped. Goku's face revealed his surprise as the man's mouth popped open, his eyebrows raised into his hairline. Gohan ignored them all and turned around, concern for Bird his one priority. The android who resembled a young girl crouched down, her large eyes round, as she watched those around her. Her dress was torn in several places, while her right arm was cradled protectively against her chest; deep evenly spaced punctures graced her forearm. Gohan kneeled down beside her.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Bird nodded her head slowly, looking from Gohan to Goku.

"You said Son Goku was dead," she whispered. Her blue eyes bore into his. Gohan sighed and looked at the ground, determined to ignore the other men listening.

"He was; he still should be," Gohan admitted bitterly. Bird, recognizing Gohan's tone, tilted her head to the side and looked at Goku.

"But you do not want him to be," she whispered. Gohan suddenly stood; his lips pressed together firmly, as he dropped his hand down, offering to help her up. He eyed her quietly, hoping that she would sense his change in mood and remain silent.

"Let's go take a look at your arm," Gohan said.

"I will not allow this creature to walk away!" Vegeta snapped. His hand still leveled against Gohan's body.

"She isn't the enemy," Gohan said practically. Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"Are you sure, Gohan?" Goku asked. Gohan did not look toward his father as he answered.

"Yes, I am."

"Don't be stupid!" Vegeta roared. "We should not allow that thing to continue functioning!"

"You're not going to hurt her!" Gohan yelled. Vegeta lowered his hand and smirked.

"And how are _you_ going to stop me?" He asked. Piccolo shifted in the background, but Gohan ignored him.

"I'll stop you one way or another, you slimy, cower—"

"Enough, Gohan!" Goku snapped, but his words were unnecessary as Vegeta slammed a hard fist into Gohan's middle.

"How you speak to your father is up to Kakarot, but you will never speak to _me_ with such disrespect!" Vegeta spat, his eyes narrowed and dangerous. The Saiyajin Prince burst into the sky, the air crackling apart with the sudden burst of energy that split the atmosphere. Gohan coughed from where he was doubled up, gasping on his knees in the dirt.

_That went well_, Gohan thought to himself. _Damn, he hits __**hard**_!

"Gohan, let's get you and the girl back to the house," Goku said quietly. He grabbed Gohan under his arms and lifted him out of the dirt, but just as soon as the teen was on his feet, he shoved away. He pressed his hand to his abdomen and turned to Bird, ignoring his father completely.

_**Gohan, you are being disrespectful**_, Piccolo growled into his thoughts.

_**So**_? Gohan returned.

_**Knock it off!**_ Piccolo snapped.

_**Fuck off!**_ Gohan snapped back. Suddenly, Gohan found himself swung around, and lifted off of the ground by his upper arms; his feet not even touching the ground as Piccolo yanked him up to press into his face. The Namekjin's's expression was _livid_. Gohan was pretty sure he had never seen his sensei so angry before and he realized with a thrill of fear that he had probably over stepped a line.

"Knock. It. Off." Piccolo growled. His black eyes were sharp and ready to slice and dice, but the fury that poured off of the Namekjin's body chilled Gohan the most. Ironically, he thought about the old joke that he had once twisted to fit his needs. _What does an eight foot tall Namekjin do all day_? Gohan would have snorted if he were in the position to, but as Piccolo's sharp nails where already digging into his flesh, he felt it would not be in his best interests.

_Yeah, maybe not your most brilliant idea, pissing off an eight foot tall Namekjin_, Gohan thought. Abruptly, Piccolo dropped the teen and Gohan lurched as his feet hit the ground, his stomach complaining. Before he could get his footing, Goku grabbed him by the right arm—ironically in the same position that Piccolo had just grabbed him—and lifted slowly into the air. He did not comment on the incident; he did not say anything to Gohan as he looked back down at the girl.

"It's Bird, right?" Goku asked uncertainly. The young android nodded silently. Goku grinned his signature grin and beckoned to her. "Can you fly?"

"No," Bird answered truthfully. Goku shrugged and literally handed Gohan over to Piccolo, who resumed his strong hold on the teen's arm. Goku drifted back down to the ground to stand before the blond girl. He held out his arms.

"Do you mind if I carry you?" He asked. Unsure, Bird glanced at Gohan, who remained silently steaming.

"Okay," she answered. Goku leaned over and tucked his right arm behind her knees and rested the other behind her back, lifting her into his arms. Shyly, Bird reached her thin arms up to circle around his neck, wincing as her right arm stretched up.

Together, the odd procession flew directly back to Goku's house. Vegeta was already there, stiffly leaning against a tree, ignoring the other occupants of the clearing. Piccolo flung the non-functioning robot monkey a few feet away from him, to land at Bulma's feet. The purple haired woman blinked a few times, her blue eyes noticing both the young girl in Goku's arms, the grip that Piccolo still had on Gohan's bicep, and the dead creature laying pathetically on the ground before her.

"Uh," she uttered.

"Bulma, that's the thing that caused the explosion," Goku said as he set Bird on her feet. Chichi stepped forward and peeked at the monkey and gasped. "By the time we got there, that one was the only one there and it was pummeling the girl."

"That's the thing I saw!" she exclaimed. Piccolo frowned and glanced at Gohan, but the teen was stubbornly ignoring him. A spark of outright rage ignited within him at the disrespect.

"Gohan," he snapped. Gohan swung his dark head around in surprise at the fury in Piccolo's voice. The Namekjin released him roughly, staggering him forward a few feet. "I think you need to go in the house for a while."

Gohan's face was incredulous, as was his mother's face. Bulma was too focused on picking at the monkey's corpse to care, but the two younger children there were staring, their mouths open as the teen stood there. Bird was wide-eyed and watching the two, something swimming in her overlarge blue eyes.

"Gohan," Goku whispered. Gohan turned minutely to look at his father. "Go." Goku's eyes were shadowed and hurt, but Gohan heard the order in the word. Goku's face was normally alive with light and joy, but at that moment, he saw such a vision of disappointment on the man's face that the teen wanted to cringe. Goku was _serious_! In fact, Gohan had the distinct impression that there was an 'or else' tacked onto the end of that order.

On the other hand, Gohan had recently made a decision not to obey the 'orders' that Son Goku gave him. Gohan stared from Piccolo back to Goku, his heart pounding as he lifted his chin higher. He was _not_ a child anymore; Goku had no right to come back after being dead for four years and decide Gohan's life. Bird stood beside the fallen monkey, gazing at it curiously, but Gohan knew from the way her blue eyes would flick up every so often, that she was paying attention, too.

"Gohan," Goku began. "You need to go inside." His voice was sharp and left the teen with no doubt that he would be forcibly made to obey, but Gohan still had trouble listening to him. He did not want to go inside, so instead he stepped back and lifted slowly into the air, putting a bit more distance between him and his father, not to mention Piccolo. Vegeta moved closer to Bulma, his eyes narrowed.

"You aren't coming back after four years of being _dead_ and deciding when it's time for me to go inside," Gohan snapped. The voices inside him were screaming hungrily in his mind, drowning out the sound of his heart as it pumped gallons of blood through his trembling body.

"Gohan!" his mother shouted. "What has gotten into you? You do what you have been told to do and don't disrespect your elders!" Chichi's face was livid with hot red swirls of rage blushing her cheeks. Gohan tilted his head to her, listened to her rant, and then ignored her as he crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. Frightened, Gohan could feel his insides tremble, but he could not bring himself to back down; he wanted nothing more than to fight. He just wished he could figure out why.

"Gohan, please don't do this," Goku asked, his voice hurt. "Do what you have been told to do and we'll talk about it later. Maybe then you'll actually tell me what on earth you're so mad at me for."

"Hah, then again maybe not!" Gohan shouted back at him. "You've been _dead_, Dad! As far as I'm concerned, you can go—" Whatever the teen would have said was cut off as a scream ripped forcefully from his throat. He threw his head back as his body convulsed before his eyes rolled up into his head and he fell limply to the ground.

Stunned, Goku rushed forward, but Chichi beat him there. Gently, she lifted Gohan's head from the ground, crying. "Gohan? Gohan! Sweetheart, open you eyes!" Goku knelt beside her and reached for Gohan's hand, while Piccolo looked on from over Goku's shoulder, concern washing over his face.

"Goku, what happened?" Chichi cried, devastated.

"His disrespectful attitude was finally remedied," Vegeta said smugly from behind them. Goku twisted to look at the Saiyajin Prince in confusion. Vegeta held a small, rectangular, metal box in his hand, which was held out to show the teen's parents. The box had three different buttons and a small screen on it that resembled the Dragon Radar. Goku frowned.

"What is that?" Piccolo asked. Trunks—with Goten attached to his left arm—scuttled closer to Bulma, their eyes wide and alarmed as they looked on at Gohan lying on the ground. Vegeta tossed the remote to Goku, who caught it easily.

"It's the remote for the Energy Block," Bulma explained, her eyebrows drawn down and a glare directed at the Prince of all Saiyajin. "I created it just in case we needed to stop whoever wore the wristband." Goku looked down at the remote in his hands and read the lettering beside each button. _Release, Shock, Locate._ Beside the shock button was a small knob with a degree arrow that could adjust the intensity of the shock. Vegeta had moved it all of the way up.

"You shocked him," Chichi said, incredulous. Vegeta smirked.

"No, he electrocuted him," Bulma replied, her voice annoyed. She sighed. "At the low end of the spectrum, it would merely shock, but at the point where Vegeta raised it to, it becomes more of an electrocution." She rose from where she knelt, still beside the android monkey, and fixed Vegeta with a look.

"We need to get this back to Capsule Corporation," she announced. Trunks slowly stuck a foot out and nudged the monkey with his toe, before he stepped back, almost stepping on the younger of the Son boys in the process. The android monkey did not budge.

"Let's get Gohan inside," Chichi directed, her lips pressed firmly together. She did not approve of Vegeta's actions, but also did not disagree enough to voice her opinions. _Perhaps something like that would have stopped this before it had started_, she thought, tired from the emotional day. Goku easily lifted the teen into his arms and turned to look at Bird.

"Bulma, would you mind taking Bird with you?" Bulma turned and looked at the android girl, surprised that she stood so close. Bird raised sorrowful eyes to the scientist, unsure of herself. Her arm was still clutch tightly against her body. Bulma sighed and gave Vegeta a hard look as he growled low in his throat.

"Yes, we will take her with us; I'll run some diagnostics on this thing," she nudged the monkey with her foot. "And I will also do some diagnostics on her—Bird, is it?—while I'm at it." She turned back to Goku.

"I'm curious, too, what Krillin found out about Marron," Bulma said. Goku nodded his head.

"Mom," Trunks said from beside Bulma. "I want to stay here."

"Sweetie," Bulma began. "I don't think that will be—"

"It's fine with us," Chichi sighed, her eyes on her youngest. "Goten will need the company, I expect." She turned back to the oldest demi-Saiyajin, grief in her expression. Bulma paused and glanced at Vegeta, who remained impassive.

"Okay," she answered the little violet haired boy. "You can stay, but you _have_ to be good, can you manage that?" Trunks nodded his head exuberantly. Bulma turned back to Goku.

"I'll call tomorrow and come back out; I'll bring Bird back then," she said. She glanced at Gohan, a grim expression on her face. "Good luck." Vegeta reached down and yanked the android monkey off of the ground, while Bird silently followed Bulma to the hover car, her blue eyes concerned as she glanced over her shoulder at Gohan several times.

Goku and Chichi stood, watching until the hover car had lifted off and was out of sight before Chichi rounded up the two youngest and crowded them into the house. Goku glanced at Piccolo.

"Will you be around?" Piccolo understood the unspoken request in the other warrior's voice. Goku was not sure how well Gohan would be once he awoke, and another warrior's presence would be appreciated. Especially when said warrior was said juvenile delinquent's best friend.

"I'll be around," he replied as he turned and walked into the forest. Goku watched him go before he dropped his gaze to his son's face, now innocent and young without the hatred that had been covering it. The man sighed and started into the house, his heart heavy with the long road ahead of him.

_To be continued…_

_AN: Hi there my friends! I do hope you are enjoying this story; I know I am! I thought I'd take the moment to check in and tell everyone who has reviewed a big 'THANK YOU!' It's cool that you guys like what I have been lovingly creating…_


	14. At The Core I've Forgotten

Chapter Fourteen

"At the Core I've Forgotten"

-Linkin Park

The next morning, due to the rainstorm that had pounded the tiny home on the mountain, the world that Goku looked out at was green and soaking wet. It was about seven in the morning, the sun was up, but no one in the house stirred. Gohan woke later the night before, but had remained quiet. 'Silently fuming', Chichi had said after they had gone to bed.

Goku knew that the two younger boys had stayed up late, but he had no idea how late Gohan had stayed up; Goku had been a bit preoccupied with something; coincidentally, the same reason that he had not slept much. After all, it _had_ been nearly four years since he had seen his wife.

Thoughts of Chichi caused him to turn soft eyes on the sleeping woman curled under the blankets on their bed. Chichi's long, dark hair was usually tightly kept up and out of her way during the daylight hours, but at that moment, the soft tresses nestled around her shoulders and brushed down her bare back. Goku smiled at the well loved blush to her cheeks and the way her thin shoulder rose and fell with each breath she took. He had missed being home.

Turning back to the window that he stood before, he frowned and tried to think. When he was a child, he had had the man who had raised him, Grandpa Gohan, but no one else. Throughout his childhood, after Gohan had died, he had met Bulma, Yamcha, Krillin, Tien, and eventually Chichi. He loved and cared for all of them, willing to lay his own life down to protect and defend them, but they never did replace Grandpa Gohan. Goku frowned, unsure of where his thoughts were taking him.

"Hey," Chichi whispered from the bed. Goku glanced at the pile of blankets, a smile stretching across his lips as he caught sight of Chichi's dewy, still sleepy eyes. She smiled shyly at him.

"Good morning." Goku stepped away from the window and set on the bed, facing Chichi.

"Good morning," he replied. He reached out a hand and caressed down Chichi's cheek. Chichi breathed deeply and brought both of her hands up to capture Goku's hand and keep it pressed against her skin, cupping her cheek, her eyes squeezed shut.

"I love you," Goku whispered. Chichi stilled, her black eyes opened slowly and blinked, surprised by the announcement. She gently stroked the back of Goku's hand, considering his face and the emotions that trembled within her. Tears slowly and silently filled the dark orbs.

"I love you, too," she whispered back. The tears in her eyes overflowed and quietly wound their way from her eyes to the soft pillow that her head rested on. Concerned, Goku shifted his hand and wiped away the droplets.

"Chichi…" he started, but he never found the words that shone clearly from his eyes. Chichi, a sniffle warbling from her chest, nearly lunged at her husband's chest as she rose. She pressed her face into the man's thick chest, her hands fisting in the material of his shirt as more tears raced to soak it.

"I've missed you _so_," Chichi cried, her voice muffled from the material that her face was shoved in to. "I've _needed_ you…_we've_ needed you!" Past his shock, Goku wrapped both of his arms tightly around his wife where he sat and pressed his lips against her hair, his heart heavy.

Was keeping the rest of earth so much more important than this? Someone _could_ have come looking for him…but then again, no one could have shown up. He could remember the day that his son had defeated Cell, and he could remember the feelings warring against each other in his son during the fight. Gohan had been frightened, but when Goku had spoken to him, his emotions had tilted into balance. Goku had no idea what the child thought as he stood on the Lookout, listening to his father tell him that he chose not to return. For once, Goku tried to put himself into Gohan's shoes. What would he have felt? Would he have understood?

"Chichi, what happened after I left?" His wife tilted her head up and rested her cheek on his chest, eyeing him curiously.

"Gohan came home with Piccolo and Krillin right behind him," she said. She straightened and looked toward the window. "Gohan touched down on the ground, his eyes grave and frightened, and I knew before he ever said the words that you were gone. I just had no idea at first that you had chosen to stay dead."

"What did Gohan do?" Chichi turned and looked at Goku.

"Nothing. He continued on as if it was the most natural thing on earth for one to lose his father like that; I worried about it for a while, but Gohan just seemed okay. So, I stopped asking. I was so distraught, Goku." Chichi's eyes filled with tears as she reached out and cupped her husband's cheek with her hands. "Our eleven year old son totally shut down, and I was too upset to see it; I should have been there, making him deal with it, instead, I was busy cleaning, cooking, and just barely hanging on by a thread."

"Chichi," Goku began, his eyebrows pulling down in the middle. "I have to tell you something." Chichi pulled back, clasped her hands, and waited, a look of pure resolve written on her face.

"I…I am not going back." Chichi blinked her eyes, confused. Goku sighed and reached back with his right hand to grip the kink in his right shoulder. "I am alive permanently now."

"How?" Chichi asked, her lips parting in surprise. Goku took a deep breath and looked off at the window and squinted his eyes.

"I'm not sure. The Kai's refused to say why they would break the rules to let me come back." Chichi hurled herself at her husband, sobbing. Goku, unprepared for the extra weight, flipped backwards onto the floor, landing on his back with his wife on his chest. Momentarily stunned, he laid there, his mouth gapping open like a fish out of water.

"Oh Goku, this is wonderful news!" Chichi continued crying into his shirt, unaware or uncaring that she was sprawled across her husband on the floor. With a ghostly smile, Goku wrapped her tightly in an embrace. He could not agree more.

DBZ

Gohan sat, his right knee bent before him while the other was stretched out flat on the roof, staring into the sky. His fingers were intertwined and clasping his right knee, allowing him to lean back as far as his arms could reach. He had been out on the roof since before the sun come up, thinking. He had had a really bad dream, reminiscent of the ones he had had awaiting his father's return after Namek, and had not been able to return to sleeping, nor the desire.

He dropped his eyes, annoyed as his sight caught on the damn contraption that wrapped about his wrist. His father had tried to explain to him the night before that Vegeta had used a built in option that could shock him, but instead of keeping it low—or not doing it all, as Gohan thought—he had raised the shock level high enough to electrocute and knock him out for a couple of hours. Uncomfortable and feeling quite alarmed at his position in his own life at the moment, Gohan shifted and closed his eyes. The voices within him whined like many rabid dogs, desperate to be free and wreak carnage on those that hurt him, but out of fear, the teen kept them bound tightly; he did not want to be so confused and hurt, but he did not know how else to live.

Now thoroughly upset, and even more confused, he pushed to his feet and stood up before slowly and carefully lifting into the air. He really wanted to be somewhere else right then, and the first place that flashed across his mind was the deserted world where Piccolo had taken him after his 'Uncle Raditz' had come. The area was firmly stuck in his mind as a safe heaven from all of the bad 'out there.'

Thoughtful, Gohan turned in the direction of his thoughts and slowly flew along, the wind brushing and welcoming him again in that same personal way. He _really_ loved flying. His heart sped up within his chest and began to ache steadily as tears drifted into his eyes. He was so alone. He wanted his dad, but at the same time, he did not; he was just so _angry_ with him. How could he just _leave_ and think that it would be okay?

Roughly, the teen shook his head and dispelled the train of thought. As he flew over the large body of water between his mountain home, and his training home, Gohan skimmed close to the water. He dropped his hand down and gently broke the surface, making the clear water ripple. The liquid was cool and smooth against the skin of his fingers, and as Gohan slowed even more, his sharp eyesight picked up shadows of fish that were drawn to the surface by the movement of his hands.

Abruptly, Gohan jerked his hand away and concentrated on flying, desperately in need of some distractions. In a few more moments, he reached his old training ground and landed high atop one of the plateaus that littered the area. His black eyes surveyed the land surrounding him, his mind drawn to the time spent in this world; Piccolo's world.

Gohan took a deep breath and closed his eyes, summoning his energy around him. What energy he had, at any rate, he acknowledged ruefully. Annoyed, Gohan realized that he was completely incapable of creating even the most simple of energy blasts. He snapped his eyes open and stalked to the edge of the plateau before he spun around, facing his back to the edge. He closed his eyes again, this time noticing that someone had caught on to his presence; he stretched his arms out to either side of him, spread his fingers and raised his face to the sky like he did many times all those years ago when he was a little boy.

He wished he were as innocent as he was the first time he had been here alone. With a twist his heart flinched within him, his young face crumbling in grief that had never been expressed. Desperate for some kind of release—and his razors of course not within his reach—Gohan stepped backwards and fell, back first toward the ground below. The wind rushed at him, a loud roar that blew into his ears and warned him of his end, but Gohan did not care; he wanted the end. Didn't he?

A growl was his only warning before strong arms caught him and slowed his descent as he knew they would. The teen remained silent; he knew full well who it was that had him: the same person who had saved him time after time as a child.

"Gohan, what are you doing here?" Piccolo's voice was gruff, but very quiet in the tone that Gohan had grown to understand was his mentor's only way of showing affection. With a pang, Gohan remembered the way the tall Namekjin had surprise him—not to mention everyone else!—when he had jumped in front of Nappa's blast and taken the fall for Gohan. That was the first time that Gohan could remember feeling guilt for being so weak.

"Gohan." Again, Piccolo whispered his name. Confused and feeling as if he were falling apart, Gohan turned in Piccolo's arms, just as the man touched down, and fisted his left hand in the dark purple gi that was a carbon copy of his own. He moaned low in his throat, the blocked emotions clawing at him again. He was sure that his insides were ripped to shreds by this point, anyways, but he could not let go of the ties he had bound up the rogue emotions with. Not yet, anyways.

Instead, the teen pressed his face into his mentor's gi and allowed a few tears to cleanse his soul. Piccolo's chest rose and fell evenly against the teen's face, but he did not care; he was too wrapped up in the way his heart seemed to burn and smolder within him, threatening to consume him. A vibration against his cheek alerted him that Piccolo was speaking. Reluctantly, he tilted his face toward the side so that he could see Piccolo's face.

"This can't go on much longer, kid," the tall man whispered. His eyebrows were tilted down low over concern filled eyes. Gohan's heart sped up at the statement, unsure what he should say in reply to something like that. Uncomfortable, the teen laid his hand flat against Piccolo's chest and gently pushed, physically telling the Namekjin he wanted down, but instead, the green man lifted him higher and tightened his grip. Surprised, Gohan's wide eyes flew up to meet the older warrior's.

"How long are you going to fight against us all, Gohan?" He asked. Gohan fisted his hand in the purple gi again, and rested his temple against the hard wall of Piccolo's chest. His heart ached still within his chest, throbbing out an uneven, painful staccato against his ribs; he _wanted_ his dad. Tears burned his eyes again as the caged emotions howled again: he was just too angry at the man to get that far. Wasn't he?

"I don't know, Piccolo-san," Gohan whispered, insecurely faltering back to the name he had used when he was a child. "I just…don't know."

"Talk to me, child, please!" Again, Gohan was surprised by the plea. Piccolo did not _say_ 'please,' he demanded and then beat the tar out of you until you acquiesced. Slowly, Gohan opened his eyes and brought them up to meet Piccolo's.

"I…_hate_ _him_," the teen whispered, deep venom in his voice. Piccolo frowned, but remained silent. "He…" What Gohan wanted to say was stuck in his throat, unable to be heard. Instead, with his heart simply bursting with suppressed emotions, he reached his right hand around, under his other arm and gripped the large green hand that pressed against his side. The demi-Saiyajin clenched his teeth and let go of the lesser of his pain, filling the physical link between them with the terror that ruled his every moment.

A sharp intake of breath was Piccolo's immediate response. Gohan, afraid of his mentor's reaction, closed his eyes tightly and swallowed, violently pushing back on the emotions he had set free; as if they sensed the freedom given to the other emotions, the caged feelings rattled and screamed, eager to be let free. Gohan gasped as he started to tremble, fighting desperately to return all of the thoughts and memories to their restrained state; but the little he allowed to flourish wanted to grow, taking with them the other, less controllable emotions.

"No," the teen gasped, his heart throbbing within him. He became unaware of his surroundings as he fought against himself, but a ridged, hot—almost unbearably so—feeling pushed into his secret holding cell and hovered, taking in the destruction there.

_**Breath, Gohan**_, Piccolo commanded. Surprised, Gohan realized that the alien presence he felt within his mind was his sensei. And as the teen mentally fought, Piccolo pressed firmly back, suffocating Gohan until he stilled within his mind.

_**Just breath; I'll take care of the rest**_. So Gohan forced himself to concentrate on his lungs and the way he was supposed to inhale and exhale. After a moment, Gohan realized that Piccolo was holding back Gohan's terror with his presence, firmly pressing against the rattling cage that held his locked up emotions.

_**Piccolo**_, the teen thought. The presence within his mind shifted and moved to the side, slowly allowing more of the trauma to be free.

_**Now, bind them up again**_**, **Piccolo commanded. Understanding, Gohan lurched forward and calmly began to bind up the renegade emotions; forcefully, Gohan shoved them back into their places and reinforced the bindings until the caged emotions were blocked by a wall that drowned out their screaming.

Gohan quietly became aware again of the outside world that he was living in, bit by bit. His breathing was still even, as it was whenever he would wake after a long night's sleep. He could still feel Piccolo's arms tucked under his knees and behind his back, supporting him. He felt a pang of shame ripple across his face as his brow wrinkled, almost too afraid to open his eyes; afraid of what Piccolo's expression would be.

"Gohan, you have to talk to Goku," Piccolo murmured. The vibration of Piccolo's chest against Gohan's cheek comforted him enough that he opened his eyes and turned them toward the Namekjin. Piccolo's black eyes were rough, concerned, and held a warning for Gohan.

"I can't," Gohan whispered. Again, Gohan pressed his opened palm against Piccolo's chest, and this time, the Namekjin bent and set the demi-Saiyajin on his feet. His hands instead moved to grip both of Gohan's shoulders.

"You cannot continue this way, Kid," Piccolo began. "The things you're fighting against will overcome you eventually, and when they do, you will loose. Talk to your dad, Kid. Fight him if that will make it easier, but communicate with him in some way; he has to know you're hurt before he can fix it."

"He can't fix it," Gohan argued bitterly. He did not get to complete his thought, however as cool fingers gripped his chin and tilted it upwards. He looked up into the Namekjin's face.

"You might be surprised, Gohan." They stood there silently for a moment before Piccolo dropped his hand and stepped back, his shoulders straightening. "I'll take you back home."

Without another word between them, Piccolo lifted into the air, watching the teen closely until he rose as well to follow his sensei.

DBZ

Goku was outside, walking around the outer parameter of his home with the remote to his missing son's energy blocking device in his palm. Goten and Trunks were in the process of chasing each other around in circles, laughing as they went while the older Saiyajin watched the screen on the little square in his hand. The little dot that indicated his son seemed to be moving back toward the mountain. With a sigh, Goku slid the remote into the pouch on his belt and looked for the two little children.

Goten had been lifting into the air a couple of feet and hovering, proud of himself that he could do it, while Trunks flew low loops around the other child. Goku smiled and clapped as Goten grinned at him.

"You're doing very well, little guy!" Goten seemed to swell under the praise, his eyes glowing happily with a joyful light. With a pang, Goku realized that the same light used to shine through every smile that his eldest son had blessed him with.

Goku turned away and looked into the direction where he could just barely feel his son's ki drifting towards him. When Chichi had finally gone in to wake up Gohan, they had realized that he was gone. Chichi had been quite upset and had demanded that Goku go after him; but Goku knew that Piccolo had been around the night before and was most likely with the wayward teen. Just as he had figured, the great green giant's ki was steadily pulsing beside Gohan's.

With a sigh, Goku thought about what he should say to his child about his disappearance. He was not quite sure what he should say or do in regards to the boy's outright defiance, and he also was not sure that he wanted to do anything about it. After all, he had just come back home; maybe Gohan just needed to readjust to life with his father home before he would relax enough to tell Goku what was wrong. Although, the teen still had no idea that Goku's visit was permanent.

Before he could actually decide on a course of action, Piccolo and said defiant child appeared over the line of trees and dropped easily to the ground.

"Gohan!" Twin shouts rang out around the little clearing as two balls of infinite energy collided with the teen and knocked him on his rear. Goten hung tightly around his neck while Trunks had latched onto his waist, his cheek squished against the material of the purple gi that Gohan wore.

"You miss bekfast!" Goten informed him happily. Gohan snorted and hugged both of the boys, a smile playing about his lips.

"Ah, I'll be okay, Saru," he replied. Shocked, Goten sat back, resting on Gohan's stomach as Trunks looked up, identical expressions of incredulousness smeared across their faces.

"But…but you didn't _eat_," Trunks clarified, his worry for the teen he viewed as his older brother obvious in his face. Of course, to Goten and Trunks, food was simply the most important factor in life.

"I know and I'll live." Gohan smiled and pushed the two children off of him so that he could stand. His happiness dissolved as he looked up at his father. Piccolo remained silent in the background, but Gohan could still feel his presence and knew that he stood directly behind him. Although he was not sure that he wanted an audience as he noted the slight down turn of Goku's lips.

"Gohan, you know you weren't supposed to leave the house," Goku started. Gohan stiffened, his eyes narrowing in anger. Goten and Trunks looked from Gohan to Goku, their expressions unsure and wary of the conversation, but then Gohan looked back at Piccolo and shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry," was his only comment. Goku frowned in earnest now, but before he could say anything, Chichi's high pitched voice rang out of the house.

"Gohan!" Chichi appeared in the doorway, a dish towel in her hand and a frown on her lips. "Where have you been?" Slowly, she walked from the house to where her husband stood, opposite Gohan.

Behind him, Piccolo growled low in his throat, backed up, and lifted into the air. A brush against Gohan's consciousness was the man's way of saying 'I'll see you later,' before he disappeared into the atmosphere. Gohan did not take his eyes off of his father; not really wanting to have the confrontation he felt was coming, but almost helpless to avoid it.

"Gohan," Chichi said again. "Where have you been? You were not supposed to leave the house." Gohan shrugged.

"I went flying; besides, you never _said_ I wasn't supposed to leave," he added. He was not trying to be rude, but when it came out that way, he did not really bother to correct it. He squinted and looked off in the direction of Satan City. "Have you heard from Bulma?"

"No, but I thought that just as soon as you were back we could all fly over there; I'm anxious to find out about that monkey and I also want to check on Krillin's daughter." Goku paused and tilted his head to the side. "You still have not told me anything about when those things attacked you." Gohan shrugged again.

"There was an explosion near Satan City, I went to find out what happened and those things jumped me; nothing else really to say."

"Except you got bit," Goku corrected. Gohan swung his gaze back around to the taller man before him.

"Yeah, I got bit, but it wasn't really a big deal," Gohan said.

"And that they can absorb ki energy," Goku prompted, his eyebrows raised. Gohan sighed.

"Can we just get going and I'll tell you about it on the way there?" The teen asked. Chichi narrowed her eyes at the tone, but remained silent. Goku nodded and looked back at his wife.

"Chichi, are you ready to go?" The woman hesitated for a moment and looked back at the house in thought; but she turned back around after a few seconds and nodded. Goku stuck two fingers in his mouth, whistled, and shouted "Nimbus!"

With a lighthearted whirring sound, the happy little cloud appeared right next to him. Affectionately, Goku stroked the white fluffiness a moment before he turned away, towards his wife.

"I love Nimbus!" Trunks exclaimed, his blue eyes large as he poked the white puff ball. Nimbus shivered, but stayed where it was as Goku lifted Chichi with both hands on her waist and deposited her on the little cloud. Goten jumped up and down underneath Nimbus, bumping it with his head, a huge smile on his face. Gohan felt a pang of envy attack him as he watched his brother.

"Okay, kiddos, do you want to ride with Mom or do you want to fly with me?" Goku asked, a huge grin on his face. Trunks nearly jumped up and down.

"I can fly!" he announced. Goku smiled and brushed the top of his head affectionately.

"I don't think you're fast enough yet," Goku said. Trunks appeared crestfallen as Goten looked up at Gohan. "But I can carry you and go really fast!" Goku continued.

Goten remained silent, but lifted his arms to his brother, begging to be lifted. With a gentle smile, and a pang in his gut, the teen bent and hoisted the little boy into his arms. Goten wrapped his arms around Gohan's neck and pressed his cheek against Gohan's ear; the action caused Gohan's heart to lighten just a tiny bit within his chest. His brother still loved him, and no matter what, he knew that Goten probably always would. He hugged the boy tightly, promising himself once again that he would make sure that Goten was safe and happy.

"Ready?" Goku asked quietly from beside Gohan. The teen opened his eyes and glanced at his father, noted the warm look in his eyes, and turned away in answer. He lifted into the sky and sped as fast as his energy would allow him to go—still not as fast as he would have liked, but it was something!

As they flew, Gohan ran through the events of the other day, not really stopping long on any one thought. Goku flew along silently and stared at the rapidly passing countryside down far below them. Chichi sat with her legs crossed, leaned backwards on the cloud, her body supported by her hands. His mother did not say much, even though she was not very well informed of the previous attack, either, but Gohan did notice the way her lips would tighten sometimes.

"When did you meet Bird?" Goku asked. Gohan frowned and dropped his eyes to the earth below while Goten's strong little arms squeezed his neck.

"Over a week ago," Gohan admitted. Goku glanced at his son's face, but did not comment farther; he guessed there was much more to the story, but the set of his son's lips made him not truly want to get into it right then. Besides, Capsule Corporation—and Bulma's home behind it—appeared before them, rising up out of the city like a strong hold.

DBZ

"These things were programmed to find Gohan," Bulma announced. Gohan and his father had just entered the room, when the blue haired woman had spun and flicked on several lights. On the walls surrounding them, were what appeared to be x-rays of the robotic monkeys. Bulma looked pensive as she slumped against a desk, her eyebrows tilted down toward her eyes. "They simply absorb ki—something I have never seen before—and they are after Gohan."

"Are you sure they're after Gohan?" Chichi asked. Goku glanced at his older son, curious what the child's reaction would be, but the teen merely stared at the floor, ignoring most of the room.

"This thing has his ki signature and his DNA copied along with an order to capture." Gohan's eye's shot up.

"Wait, 'capture'?" The demi-Saiyajin asked. Goku frowned and watched Gohan closely. Bulma nodded and tilted her body, reaching out her hand and bringing something up on the computer monitor on the wall. The screen behind her erupted into a code that Gohan was hard pressed to understand. He squinted at the numbers and sentences that were all strung together.

"They do not have any kind of kill order for you, or anyone else in particular." Bulma typed a couple of more things and the gibberish on the screen flashed into a pattern that could be understood. Gohan leaned closer to read the orders himself.

"No, no kill order, just your typical, destroy, destroy, destroy," Gohan said sarcastically. Bulma sighed. "So I take it their goal was to draw me out all along."

"Seems that way," Bulma said quietly, looking at Goku.

"These things are after Gohan?" Chichi asked, her voice raising a few octaves. Bulma bit her lip and nodded her head. Gohan tossed his head and glared at his father.

"Guess you didn't really need to stay dead after all," he said smoothly. Chichi gasped and looked at Gohan, almost as if she were trying to decide if the boy were really her child.

"Do you know what they are supposed to do with him after they capture him?" Goku asked quietly, ignoring the teen's comment. Bulma shook her head and moved away from the desk, toward the doors.

"No, I can't seem to get any kind of location out of the stupid thing. Wherever they are to take Gohan is not something I can translate, but I'm not sure if that is simply because they don't know exactly, or if the co ordinances are just not legible." Gohan frowned and moved after Bulma, his parents following closely behind. "Don't worry; I'm still going to fiddle with it and see if I can't come up with more info."

"Bird is down this hallway", the scientist said, leading the way toward another door down the hall way. "She's very sweet for being an android."

"Bulma, did you find anything out about her?" Gohan asked. He still had not forgotten that he had promised the young android that he would help her out.

"Yes and no," was the short reply.

"Well, glad that answer wasn't ambiguous or anything," Gohan said, his voice irritated. Bulma stopped short and spun around, but before she could get in a word, Goku had shot out his hand and smacked the teen roughly on the back of the head.

"Gohan! Apologize to Bulma!" The man demanded. Gohan turned to glare at his father, vicious hatred in his eyes, but paused and glanced at the older woman. Bulma stood beside the door, her hands on her hips, her blue eyes sharp as she surveyed the black haired teen before her. The teen winced as he realized that he had never meant to hurt her—or anyone else, really.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, a frown on his face. Bulma raised her eyebrows and shook her head with a sigh before she turned and walked into the next room. Chichi followed, but Goku caught Gohan's bicep and tugged him back into the hallway.

"Do not be rude to her or anyone else, Gohan," Goku warned. "If you're mad, then you need to tell me what's going on instead of being rude." Gohan tried to pull away, the howls within him deafening him, but Goku's grip on his arm was too strong. He pulled the teen back toward him until they were inches apart. Gohan felt as if he were being stabbed with a jagged knife, right into his heart, and the fear that he would snap lit deep within him. The voices grew as Gohan dropped his eyes to the ground below, struggling to remain disconnected.

"Let go of me," he said quietly. Goku glanced over Gohan's shoulder for a moment, his eyes narrowed as if trying to decide what to say.

"Gohan!" he whispered intensely. He frowned and yanked slightly on Gohan's arm. "Stop this now. We'll talk about it later, okay?" Gohan closed his eyes, his emotions boiling up beneath his skin until he nodded stiffly.

"Fine."

"One day, Kakarot, you will regret that you did not curb his disrespectful behavior," a smooth voice commented from behind Gohan. Goku released the teen who promptly spun and caught sight of Vegeta, decked out in a body suit, standing in the hallway a few yards away. The Prince sneered at the young demi-Saiyajin.

"Gee, thanks for your concern, Vegeta," Goku said, a hint of a joke in his tone. He grinned at the Prince, who rolled his eyes.

"I am going to the Gravity Room," Vegeta almost snarled. Goku's eyes followed the shorter man down the hall, longing obvious on his face. Gohan sighed and started for the doorway.

"You should go with him," he commented. "I know training is what you live for." Before Goku could comment or grab Gohan again, the teen was gone, vanishing through the door.

"Gohan." Bird looked pleased to see him, her blue eyes bright and observant. Gohan smiled and walked toward her until he could reach out and touch her arm. She sat in a chair, looking out of place wearing a pair of tight denim jeans and a spaghetti strap shirt the color of the summer sky. She tugged weakly on the dark purple Capsule Corporation jacket that she wore on top and smiled weakly at the boy. Bulma stepped up beside her and flipped on the light board like the ones that were in the previous room.

"She's mostly human," Bulma said. Gohan snapped his attention up to the blue haired woman, shocked. Bulma seemed oblivious and continued. "Bird is the most perfect example of a human with robotic extras. Her vision and hearing has been modified with chips that increase them, while her heart pumps some kind of organic compound along with her blood; it makes her muscles stronger, faster and _nearly_ impervious to physical trauma. Otherwise, she is a normal young girl of about thirteen, fourteen, maybe." She smiled at the girl and patted her on the shoulder. Gohan looked up at the x-rays and tilted his head to the side as he examined them. The x-rays looked completely human but for the small bits of machinery behind her eyes and ears as well as the odd attachment to her heart.

"What about her ki?" Gohan asked. He looked down and ran his hand lightly over the bandage on the girl's arm that covered the injury from the previous day. Bulma shook her head.

"She has none to speak of; she was not equipped for combat like Seventeen and Eighteen, Dr. Gero did not want her found, nonetheless." Gohan shook his head and looked at the girl.

"Then what?" he asked, distressed. Chichi, who had remained silent during the exchange, stepped forward and put a comforting hand on Gohan's shoulder.

"Gohan, maybe she was just a prototype for the others."

"No," Bulma said. "She is more advanced, actually. Bird merely lacks the hardware to fight," Bulma said as Goku moved farther into the room, wearily glancing around. Gohan frowned at the man, wondering what his problem was.

"Goku, I don't keep needles in these rooms, so stop fidgeting," Bulma snapped, making the Saiyajin jump, a frightened look on his face.

Gohan rolled his eyes, but could not help the smile that pulled his lips upwards. Chichi smiled, too, but more at the innocence of Gohan's expression than at her husband's mortal fear. Goku visibly relaxed and turned to face Bird and his son, who stood closely behind the girl. A twinge hit his heart at the small smile on Gohan's face. He realized suddenly that he had not seen his once happy child smile that way since he got back; he wondered how long it had been.

Gohan met Goku's eyes and visibly stiffened, his ghostly smile disappearing behind the tough glare that Goku had seen on the teen's face since his return. Gohan turned away to face Bulma.

"So, what is the next step?" he asked. Bulma frowned and glanced at Bird.

"Bird, I know I have asked this before, but do you remember anything at all?" Bird shook her head sadly, her blond hair brushing against her shoulders. Chichi smiled gently at the girl.

"Well, there is not a lot of room at our home, Bird, but you are welcome to stay with us," the brunet said. Goku grinned and stepped closer, investigating the x-rays, his nose scrunched up.

"Ah, we can get another capsule from Bulma and add another addition to our house, don't ya think, Chichi?" He swung his black eyes toward his spouse, who smiled widely and nodded.

"I think that's a brilliant idea!" The woman replied. Gohan bit his lip and looked at Bird.

"Bird, would you be okay with living with us?" He asked softly. The small android/girl turned her large, fathomless blue eyes on the teen, her head tilted to the left slightly.

"Of course, you would be expected to help out around the house some, but it would be your home," Chichi offered. Bulma remained quiet, watching the girl's reaction. Bird snapped her eyes to Chichi and paused, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Home," she repeated softly. She looked at Gohan, a confused expression lighting her youthful features. She narrowed her blue eyes and stared at the teen, but she did not seem to see him, instead, she seemed to be seeing through him. Gohan knelt beside her knees.

"Bird? Are you remembering something?" Gohan asked, alarmed by the expression on the android's face. Goku glanced toward them, curious, while Chichi stepped closer to Gohan.

"Home," the girl repeated. Bird sighed and shook her head, her curls bouncing. "No, nothing there."

"Well, don't give up yet; maybe you'll remember eventually," Bulma offered. Gohan smiled and pat her knee before he stood. He glanced at the scientist.

"How's Marron?" He asked. Bulma flipped several switches in the room, extinguishing the x-ray boards and the one extra light.

"I was just on my way over to the hospital to find out," she answered. The blue haired woman turned and started for the door. "I talked to Krillin last night and he said that the doctors had not found anything yet, but that they were going to do a couple more tests to be sure that they did not miss anything before they release her."

"Has she had any other visions?" Chichi asked quietly. The Son family—complete with the new addition of one young android—followed the head of Capsule Corporations out of the door and down another hallway.

"Not that I know of," Bulma replied. "But the doctors are concerned because she is so very young and has had these visions before." Gohan slowed his step until he was behind his parents and fell in step with Bird.

"Are you okay?" The demi-Saiyajin whispered.

"Yes." Bird clasped her hands together and brought them demurely before her, again creating the illusion that the girl was merely out for a stroll. "Your friend Bulma is…nice." Gohan glanced at the girl's face, trying to read her.

"Are you sure that you'd be fine coming to live with us? You know you don't have to do anything you don't want to." At this, Bird glanced sharply up at the teen, a delicate frown on her face.

"Sometimes, doing what you want is not what is right." Gohan stumbled, seeming to trip over his own feet at the soft reply. He paused and stared at the girl, an alarmed frown on his face. Bird stopped as well and turned slightly to look at him.

"Why did you say that?" He asked. The blond blinked at him and tilted her head to the side, considering him.

"Because it is the truth," she answered. Gohan swallowed thickly, unsure why the surprising words affected him so, and continued walking. His parents and Bulma had gotten a bit ahead of the two, but Gohan caught Goku looking back at them and slowing his step. "I am very please to come and stay with you, Gohan."

"Well, just don't feel as if you have to, that's all I'm saying," Gohan finished quietly. Bird nodded and continued on beside him.

The hospital was a part of Capsule Corporation that Bulma had happily added after she had gotten older and begun working there more. It was a stone's throw away from Capsule Corp and Bulma's home. The adults spoke about Krillin's daughter, the topic eventually twisting to Krillin's surprising marriage to the one-time android and enemy.

"You know, it was not long after you died that Krillin proposed to Eighteen," Chichi said. Goku laughed and shook his head.

"I still can't believe that he married her! I almost fell over when she came walking up," Goku said, still laughing. "I guess there are stranger things—although none come to mind."

"Marron was the real shocker; no one thought that Eighteen would be able to have children, even after she was wished into being human," Bulma said. They rounded a corner and almost ran head first into Yamcha, Puar scampering to remain on his shoulder.

"Whoops…hey!" He said, smiling widely at Goku, over Bulma's shoulder. "I was just leaving, I have stuff to do, but I was hoping you guys would make it up here today."

"How's Marron?" Goku asked. Bulma slipped by and disappeared into the room, followed by Chichi while Gohan and Bird remained with Goku.

"Oh the doctor's have not found anything." Yamcha shrugged. "Sorry about ditchin' everybody yesterday." Yamcha turned and smiled at Gohan.

"How are you kid? I was wondering where you were yesterday, but your mom said that you were studying or something? Do you ever get away anymore?" Gohan shrugged his shoulders, choosing not to comment. Yamcha smiled and waved as he turned down the hallway. "I'll catch you later, Goku!"

Gohan turned and continued on toward the hospital room. Chichi stood beside the window, speaking quietly to Eighteen with Bulma on her other side, while Krillin sat on the edge of the bed, speaking to his young daughter. The short monk turned and jumped up as Goku entered the room, followed by Gohan and Bird. The little blond girl on the bed sat up, her round face still and sleepy.

"Hey, guys!" Krillin greeted them, a tired smile on his face.

"Hey, Krillin, how is she feeling?" Goku asked, gesturing to Marron. The monk grinned.

"She's fine, the doctor's did not find anything that suggests she's sick, but Eighteen and I have been talking about it and we think it may be a kind of telepathy." He frowned, his fists on his hips, and glared at Goku's shoes. "Of course, try to get a doctor to get that."

Goku grinned back and clamped a hand on his friend's shoulder as they walked toward the bed. As Gohan moved forward, Bird gasped and stiffened beside him, her blue eyes large and glued to the little girl sitting on the bed. Marron, too, became more alert, her expression mirroring the android's. With trembling fingers, the little girl pointed at Bird.

"I know you!" She announced. Eighteen, drawn by her daughter's cry, approached Bird. The older woman's arms were crossed stiffly over her chest, intimidating even in the soft, feminine khaki caprice and navy blue blouse. Eighteen narrowed her eyes and dropped her chin, positively glaring at the girl.

"You have no ki," the woman nearly growled. Bird's startled gaze flew up and latched onto the threatening woman. Krillin frowned and moved to close the gap between Marron and Eighteen, effectively blocking the little girl from view. "Who are you and what do you want here?" Eighteen demanded. Goku looked stunned for a moment before he came back to himself and laughed.

"Eighteen, Krillin, this is Bird! She's a friend," Goku said. Eighteen snorted.

"She is no friend; she _reeks_ of Dr. Gero," Eighteen snarled. Gohan shifted to the side and stepped in front of Bird, not caring for the turn in the conversation.

"She's _my_ friend," Gohan warned quietly.

"Whoa, guys, chill," Bulma said as she stepped forward, both hands raised in an attempt to pacify the room. "Don't worry, we know that she's an android—well, I guess technically she's _not_ but—she's a girl who Dr. Gero altered." Bird winced and flicked her gaze back to the girl who was mostly hidden behind her father.

"Daddy," Marron said quietly. Krillin turned immediately, his full attention on his child.

"Yes, baby?" Marron swallowed and glanced at Bird and then Gohan.

"She's okay," the little girl whispered. Surprised, Krillin glanced at his wife before he settled on the bed next to Marron.

"What do you mean?" Marron was quiet for a moment, her eyes highlighted and appeared larger in her childish, round face. The deep blue in the orbs were crystalline and expressive.

"She is…nice," the little girl whispered. Gohan frowned and narrowed his eyes at the girl, disturbed by the familiarity of that statement. The replies to the girl's words were lost on Gohan as he blinked and stared at the people before him, his past science classes ringing loudly in his mind. Alarmed, he realized that three of the eight people in the room were blond with blue eyes. Two were created by the same sadistic scientist.

"Bulma," Gohan said suddenly, capturing everyone's attention.

"Yes, Gohan?" Gohan blinked and glanced at the occupants of the room.

"Can I talk to you a moment; outside?" The blue haired woman blinked, but nodded her head. Distracted, Gohan turned to precede her out of the room, but stopped and turned back quickly, his eyes piercing and harsh. He glared at Eighteen and Krillin. "Can you manage not to attack Bird until I get back in here?"

"Bird?" Eighteen asked. Krillin frowned at Gohan's tone, jumping to the defensive.

"Gohan, that's enough, no one is going to hurt her and there is no reason to be rude," Chichi huffed, a disgruntled expression on her face. She frowned at him and took a deep breath, her shoulder's rising. Gohan accepted it as a tongue lashing in the making, but turned and left the room before his mother could let it fly. Quietly, Bulma followed him out and pulled the door to. The teen walked a few feet away from the closed door and turned to address Bulma.

"I'm not crazy, just hear me out," he started. Bulma raised her eyebrows, humor tinting her eyes.

"Now that and your most recent behavior is an excellent indication that you are not crazy," she commented. Gohan rolled his eyes and snorted.

"I need you to do me a favor," the teen said quietly, his eyes flickering back to the closed bedroom door. At the nurses station a couple of feet away, the nurses were busily attending to the needs of the residents of the floor, but Gohan still kept his voice low to avoid being overheard. "Did you take any of Eighteen's blood?"

Bulma blinked.

"Why on earth would I?" Gohan looked at her again.

"I think you should do another test before you let Marron leave, but don't tell her parents why exactly," Gohan said, chewing gently on his bottom lip. "Have the doctor tell her it's for some random test—take Krillin's blood, too, it will be more likely to convince them." Bulma frowned.

"Why?" Gohan paused and studied the woman for a moment, wondering how crazy she would think he was.

"I think you should compare the DNA of Marron, Eighteen, and Bird," he finished calmly. Bulma blinked and parted her lips, a good argument working up in her mind, but paused. Her shoulders were raised, her lungs filled with air that whooshed out, blowing the soft feathering of hair away from her face.

"Good idea," Bulma admitted. She smiled at him as she moved toward the nurses station. "So when are you going to come back to Capsule Corp? I could really use some other people that are capable of independent thought."

"I…don't think I'll be coming back," Gohan said. Bulma caught him in a look that rivaled his mother in severity, but turned to the nurse behind the counter without a comment.

"Do you have a piece of paper I could use, please?" The dark haired nurse handed over a slip of paper and pen which Bulma immediately started writing on before she folded it and asked for an envelope. "When Miss Marron's doctor comes back in, give him this message. I believe it is Doctor Shirope?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the nurse replied, accepting the envelope and tucking it beside her keyboard. Bulma thanked the girl and turned back to the teenage Saiyajin.

"So, why exactly are you not going to do the smart thing and come to work?" She asked. Gohan took a deep breath and followed the woman back over to the hospital room door.

"I don't think I will be allowed that far away from the house right now, and besides, I have not really been in the mood for it." Gohan felt strangely awkward. He knew that Bulma was there when his mother had found the razor, and seen him with blood on his clothes, and yet the woman treated him no different and had yet to bring it up or admonish him for it.

"Gohan, kiddo, I know you've been having a rough time of it lately—well, I guess you've been having a rough time of it since your dad left," she amended. Gohan groaned to himself and moved forward, leaning his hands against the window. So much for not saying anything, apparently she was just awaiting the right moment. "But I really think it would do you worlds of good to get out of your house and experience other things now."

"You are more advanced in your schooling than most of the kids your age and I think you would excel at Orange Star High school." Gohan sighed and turned back toward Bulma, brushing past her to return to the room.

"I highly doubt that I would 'fit in' with any kids my age," he muttered. "I'm not interested, Bulma, can we not talk about this right now?"

"Okay, but I do think you should think about it," she pressed, following him back toward the room. Gohan's insides had begun to prickle with the direction of the conversation and he fought against the desperate desire that was running through his veins.

"Hmm," Gohan offered. Bulma sighed, cast one last look at the teen, and opened the door to Marron's room. Bird stood, exactly where Gohan had left her. Eighteen had taken up residence beside her daughter on the bed, a thoughtful expression on her pale face as she brushed her fingers through her daughter's hair. Chichi and Bird stood quietly near the door, the android's features tense, while Krillin and Gohan's father conversed by the window. By the tough, subdued look on both men's face, Gohan guessed they were discussing something concerning him.

"Bulma, do you still have Android Sixteen's files?" Eighteen asked just as Bulma shut the door after entering. Gohan glanced at her as he moved close to Bird and his mother. The blond woman had a pensive, strained expression on her face.

"Yeah, I still have all of his information," Bulma replied. "Why?" Eighteen turned back to her daughter, playing with her hair again.

"Go through all of the data again; I think your friend there might have been mentioned." Gohan turned to look at Bird as Eighteen gestured toward her. "If she were actually Dr. Gero's creation, then her info will be with him." Bulma nodded, thoughtful.

"I'll look into that."

After a few more moments, Chichi was finally able to drag Goku away, informing him that there was a bunch of things that had to be done now that there would be an extra person in their household. They returned to Bulma's home and set about finding Trunks and Goten, who had been left with Bulma's mother. When Chichi realized that Bird had no other clothes than what she wore, the woman became slightly dewy eyed, but recovered quickly and demanded that they go shopping for clothes. Gohan happily offered to stay and keep Goten and Trunks company while Goku had slipped off to have a good sparing session with the resident Saiyajin Prince.

To be continued…

_AN: That's it for now folks, but I've got about ten more chapters already done and waiting to be checked over and perfected. I'm having fun with this whole shiboodle! Let me know what you guys are thinking; I love hearing what you all think about it, even if I stink at getting out my replies!_


	15. I Don't Know What You're Expecting of Me

Chapter Fifteen

"Don't Know What You're Expecting Of Me"

-Linkin Park

"Yah!" Goku gasped as he buried his fist into Vegeta's stomach. The Saiyajin Prince recovered quickly and roundhouse kicked him in the temple, sending him flying into the hard metal of the Gravity Room. Vegeta snarled and stalked toward the other man, his left eye twitching in fury.

"What. Is. _Wrong._ With. You!" he ground out. He bent and fisted his fingers into the front of Goku's gi—what was left of it—and yanked him up off of the floor. "You have yet to actually _fight_!" Angry, the shorter Saiyajin flung him away from himself. Goku flipped and landed on his feet a few feet away from the livid Prince.

"I'm sorry, Vegeta; just thinking," he admitted. "Maybe today is not such a good day, neh?" Vegeta rolled his eyes and turned away.

"What was the point of your coming in here if you were not going to fight _properly_?"

"Vegeta…" Goku began. The man's tone was low and thoughtful, surprising Vegeta enough that the man tilted his head to the side and looked at Goku.

"Did you ever sense anything wrong with Gohan?" He asked. Vegeta snorted and flicked the dial on the Gravity meter a few degrees higher, increasing the weight that pressed down on him.

"I have better things to do with my time than to pay any attention to the half-breed son of a low-bred warrior," Vegeta said, his voice harsh. "Is that what your problem is, Kakarot? You're worried about that pathetic, disrespectful, self-mutilating brat of a child?" He swung his hard black eyes to Goku, a sardonic frown marring his features.

"He's not pathetic, Vegeta!" The Prince smirked and raised his left eyebrow.

"Just disrespectful and self-mutilating?" Goku shook his head and pressed his lips into a firm line.

"I don't understand why he is so angry," Goku admitted. Vegeta moved towards him and settled into a crouch.

"Of course not, the child has had you save his skin since his very first battle and has idolized you beyond reason, yet none of that seemed to matter when you stupidly decided to stay _dead_," Vegeta said quietly, his eyes burning black. Goku dropped into an offensive stance and waited for Vegeta to make the first move.

"I stayed in Otherworld to protect earth!" Goku insisted. Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"Yes, and yet there's something else out there right now threatening this ridiculously weak planet." Vegeta dove toward Goku, a hard punch directed at his opponent's jaw. Goku deflected the punch and twisted around to plant a kick against Vegeta's back. The Saiyajin Prince cried out and flashed gold, his eyes going from their normal ebony black to a blazing teal. Goku followed suit and ascended to the Super Saiyajin level before he flung a ki blast at the older man. The blast skirted past Vegeta as he winked out of existence and reappeared directly behind Goku, his boot-clad foot poised and ready to strike, but its intended target flashed around and grabbed Vegeta's foot, hurling him around and into the wall.

"You don't know that; we're not even sure what these monkey things are for," Goku argued. Vegeta narrowed his eyes and shot back at Goku, a battle cry pouring from him as he hurled a punch into Goku's midsection. Goku doubled over just slightly before returning the favor and slamming his own fist into Vegeta's stomach, gleefully thrilled when the other man groaned.

An hour later, both Saiyajin lay panting on the floor of the Gravity Room, their appearance back to normal.

"Ah," Goku moaned. "Are you ready to call it quits?"

"Kiss…ah…my…ass," Vegeta gasped. Goku laughed and rose up onto his arms, surveying the damage done to their surroundings.

"Bulma's gonna have a fit," he commented. Vegeta opened his eyes and glanced around, noting the many dents in the metal casing and the few flickering lights above them. At least the Gravity machine was fine.

"She'll get over it," he offered. Goku snorted.

"Will _you_? She can scream pretty loud." Vegeta cracked his right eye at earth's defender and glared.

"Shut up," Vegeta tossed off handedly, closing his eye again. Goku moaned and flopped backwards again.

"Are you going to take my suggestion?" Vegeta asked quietly after a few moments, trying to ignore the way his muscles complained about breathing. Goku rolled his head to the side and raised his eyebrows in question, but Vegeta still had his eyes closed.

"About what?" Goku asked. Vegeta cracked his right eye again.

"About your son." Goku frowned in confusion.

"What was your suggestion?" He asked. Vegeta opened both of his eyes and sat up, twisting to look at the other warrior.

"Kick his ass!" Goku jerked himself up off of the floor and spun around, his rear still planted on the hard tile.

"I would have remembered that suggestion, Vegeta! I am not going to hurt my son simply because he's having a hard time right now!" Goku shouted, angered by the advice. Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"He's a Saiyajin; it won't kill him!" Vegeta glared at Goku. "You've been too easy on him as it is, Kakarot! If you don't step up now, he will have no respect for you!"

"That's not always the best way to earn respect, Vegeta," Goku replied, frowning. Vegeta snorted. "Gohan needs me to be here for him; he'll come around."

"No, he'll hate you for not stepping up and acting like a proper father," Vegeta snapped. Shocked, Goku merely blinked at the Saiyajin Prince, who had risen and moved slowly toward the Gravity Room control panel. Once the gravity was returned to normal, Vegeta turned back around and caught Goku's eyes as he stood.

"Maybe I'm wrong, but the way that brat looks at you should be knocked out of him." Vegeta's tone was low, but not sarcastic, surprising Goku. "Perhaps that is what he is after." And then he was gone, disappearing out of the Gravity Room and into the hallway beyond, leaving Goku to his thoughts.

DBZ

Goten was exhausted later that night, and fell asleep in his mother's arms on the way home. After the shopping trip, there were four large bags of clothes and other necessary items that had been stuck in a capsule for easy transport, which went into Gohan's pocket. Bird had looped her arms around Gohan's neck and rested against his back as they flew home. Goku flew a little bit ahead of him and had been quiet after the time spent in the Gravity Room with Vegeta. In front, Chichi sat happily on Nimbus, her sleeping toddler in her arms. She shot looks of pleasant contentment toward her husband on the way home and had picked up on the oddly reserved behavior. Curious, she decided that she would speak to him about it later, after everyone was in bed for the night.

"Bird, did you have fun with Mom?" Gohan asked quietly. He reached up and touched her arms that were around his neck.

"Your mother is kind," she murmured. Gohan cracked a smile.

"Yeah, she is," the teen replied. Bird tightened her arms around his neck.

"You love her." Gohan twisted around and caught her eyes, surprised by the forward statement.

"Yes," he admitted. "I do."

"You love your mother, but you do not love you father?" Bird asked, confusion lighting her eyes. Gohan pressed his lips together and stared ahead of them, toward his mountain home.

"No, I…it's complicated," he sighed. As the quaint little home appeared from within the trees, Bird once again tightened her arms around the demi-Saiyajin's neck.

"He loves you," she whispered into his ear. "He wants you to be happy again." Gohan hunched his shoulders, his heart aching with the words, knowing that he would never be forgiven, so it did not matter. Stiffly, he touched down, carefully swinging Bird off of his back by her good arm and depositing the girl on the ground. Bird turned to face him as Goku helped Chichi from Nimbus.

"I am happy," Gohan whispered, but they both knew that it was a lie. Gohan's heart ached and his insides felt feathered and raw, while the blocked in emotions raged within him. He thought back to what Piccolo had said:_ The things you're fighting against will overcome you eventually, and when they do, you will loose._

Gohan wondered vaguely what it would be like to loose it. He wondered if it would be like smearing numbing cream over his heartache. Bird reached out and gently pressed her first and middle finger against the teen's chest, where the material from his purple gi did not cover. The touch seemed to bruise his internal battle, the whispering raising steadily. The teen winced, his expression crumbling as he staggered backwards. Bird remained where she was, her arm still raised, with a sad expression on her face.

"This is not happy," she whispered. "When we met, you had injured yourself physically; now you injure yourself mentally." Her large blue eyes glimmered in the dusky evening as she slowly lowered her arm. Gohan felt as if she had just twisted the knife that remained lodged in his heart. The urge to scream out his agony almost overwhelmed him to the point of actually giving it voice, but instead, he bit his lower lip.

"Bird, Gohan," Chichi called. "Come inside."

Without another word, Gohan walked to the house, Bird silently following at his side. Goku had already gone inside to lay Goten down in his bed, but Chichi waited at the back door for her son and new 'daughter.'

"Gohan, you look pale, baby, are you okay?" Chichi reached up and brushed her fingers beneath the fringe on his forehead, concern written on her face. Gohan ducked and pulled away from his mother's touch.

"I'm fine, Mother, I'm just going to go to bed," he said. Chichi frowned, but nodded her head.

"Okay, Sweetheart." Gohan turned and trudged to his room, his emotions buzzing loudly within him. Once in his room, he wearily pushed the door to, wishing that he had some sort of release from the burning within his heart. He leaned against the closed door and looked toward his window, reminded vaguely of the alien spacecraft. Gohan realized that he still had not told his father about that particular part of the oddness happening around and to him lately.

Again, he contemplated his emotions, trying to straighten out his highly confused thoughts. He pushed away from the door and strode to his desk, plopping down in the desk chair and setting an elbow on the desk top, while he reached for his Biology book with the other hand. He tugged the fat green book toward him and flipped it open to his marker, somewhere near the center. He had been studying the section on the human heart.

Scientifically, Gohan new there was no physical reason why his heart would be aching the way it was; his heart's sickness was purely emotional. He accepted that, but he still did not like it. Hatred and anger were what pushed away the pain and even though Gohan knew that he was doing more damage, he did not seem to care. It was either push the feelings away under the guise of negative emotions, or helplessly and weakly fall to them. The second was not an option to him, he knew that.

He sighed and rested both arms on the desk top, over the book and then laid his forehead wearily down on top of his arms. He was so very tired. His chest ached—now almost a constant occurrence—and his emotional state was deteriorating more and more. Very soon, he felt he would know the truth of Piccolo's warning.

On top of all of this, monkey creatures from Mars were after him. And Bird…Bird might be the unknown biological relation of one of his friends. Gohan sighed deeply again, his brain now making the list of body parts that ached. What in the world _was_ Bird? _I promised her that I would find out what she was, what she was created for, and help her to find the man whom she was looking for, but now I'm not sure that I can do that_. A knock on Gohan's bedroom door disturbed his thoughts and he jerked his head up and began pouring over his Biology book in indifference as his father opened the door and pushed into the room.

"Gohan," he said softly as he moved closer to the teen. Gohan's heart rate had picked up and was presently thudding heavily against his ribs as the Saiyajin moved across the room and perched on the edge of Gohan's bed, facing him. "Do you have a minute? We need to talk."

Gohan was surprised by the serious quality to Goku's voice, and peeked at the man out of the corner of his eye, not speaking. Goku's eyes were clear, but his eyebrows were pulled down low, giving him a contemplative, almost angry appearance. Gohan shrugged and turned his eyes back to his Biology book, pretending to be completely absorbed in it. Goku sighed.

"First, whenever you are asked a question, please answer; it is disrespectful not to answer." Gohan was mildly surprised by the statement, and angered by it.

"Fine then," he began. "Yes, I have a minute, what do you want?" Gohan pushed away and swung his legs out from under the desk, so that he was sitting sideways on his chair, facing his father. Goku's expression was serious and sent tendrils of fear mixed heavily with fury rolling through Gohan's insides.

"Son, please try to be polite. You were raised better than this," he commented softly. Gohan met his father's gaze, his eyes filled with barely suppressed rage.

"You sound as if you actually had something to do with that," the teen whispered. Goku's eyes sharpened and drilled directly through the teen.

"Gohan, I may not have been around for a few years, but I am still your father and you still have to respect me." Goku took a deep breath and frowned at his eldest son. "What has gotten into you, Gohan? You used to be such a good kid and now you act as if you hate everyone!"

"I don't hate _everyone_," Gohan snapped. "_Just you_."

Goku looked shocked, as if his son had just announced that he and Vegeta were going to run away together, but the emotion quickly disappeared, replaced instead by resolve. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his face tilting closer to the teen's.

"I don't care if you wish me _dead_, Gohan; you are going to drop this attitude that you have had ever since I got back and stop being rude to everyone. This isn't _like_ you, what is causing this?" Goku reached out and gripped Gohan's wrists in his own. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Gohan jerked away, flipping over the chair in his haste to escape the agony that his father's touch had caused. Fear and hatred, with a deceitful amount of suppressed hurt welled in his eyes. His sinuses burned with the familiar edge of threatening tears, but he quickly yanked at the memories of his father's leaving him to fuel his anger. He blinked at the man, allowing the hatred and betrayal he felt to drive the frightening emotions away, deeper inside of himself.

"Why?" He nearly screamed, fury filling him. He felt his ki try to rise, only to be cut off as it ran into the barrier that was the block around his wrist. "Why do I hate you? You taught me to be this perfect little warrior, do whatever it was that you told me to do; get ready for the Androids, kill Cell, fight against Bojack—and I did it! Not because I _wanted_ to, but because I wanted you to be proud of me!"

"But Gohan, I _am_ proud of you, I always have been!" Goku said as he stepped closer to his teenager. Gohan shook his head and growled in the back of his throat.

"It doesn't matter now," he said, forcing himself back to calm. He was breathing heavily as if he had just run a race, but he refused to back down. "You left, you made your choice, now you have to deal with the left over's. I have no room for a father in my life; I don't need your love anymore, I don't need you to be proud of me, I don't _need_ you anymore. You're too late." Goku looked stunned for a moment before his expression became closed. He swallowed and looked off to the side, his eyes narrowed in thought before he swung his black gaze back to his son.

"What you _need_ right now, is debatable, but what you _will do_, is respect those in authority over you; I am your father, whether you like it or not and you are going to obey—whether you like it or not." Gohan's expression was cold fury, but he remained silent, almost shocked speechless. Goku moved toward him, his eyes softening as he reached out to his son. Gohan jerked backwards, away from Goku's grip, but the older Saiyajin merely stepped closer and captured the teen by both of his upper arms. Roughly, Goku yanked his teenager to his chest and wrapped his arms around him, pinning the boy's arms to his sides. Gohan struggled, both against his father and the emotional upheaval of the close physical contact. He squeezed his eyes closed, his world seeming to tilt and tremble in his vision.

"Let me go," he gasped, terrified to go any farther. Instead, his father's arms tightened around him. The whispers became full screams the longer Goku held him, but Gohan felt helpless to stop it. Gohan felt rough cracks begin to rip through the heavy walls, making him feel weak and out of control.

_Please, stop! Help me,_ he cried mentally as frightened tears began to course down his cheeks. He gasped, alarmed as it became a sob that jerked his body; shudders began to tremble through him, making his legs quake so bad he thought he would fall, but his father just tightened his embrace, holding him up.

"Please," he whispered. "Just let me go." His voice trembled. He was on the verge of falling apart, but still he fought it. Desperately, he searched through his memories, trying to pull himself away from the pain; desperate to end his weakness. A vision drifted to him, tinged with emotion and filled with hurt.

Gohan had been ten, standing on the Lookout, waiting for Vegeta and Trunks to leave the Room of Spirit and Time. On the earth below, Cell in his imperfect stage was beating the tar out of Android Seventeen and Piccolo, when Piccolo's ki fell drastically. Terrified for his sensei, Gohan had run toward the edge of the Lookout, intent on flying to his mentor's aid. Goku had grabbed him from behind and held on to him as he had raged, trying to break free and help his sensei. Eventually, Goku had talked him in to calming down, but Gohan could still feel Piccolo's ki falling farther and farther away.

Out of rage at his father for not doing anything, he had screamed that Goku could stay if he wanted, but that Gohan was going to go help the others. He had angrily jumped into the air, but he only got a few feet away when his father had angrily appeared before him, slamming his fist heavily into Gohan's cheek, and knocking him back a couple of yards. Gohan had been stunned.

As his trembling became worse, Gohan latched onto the anger in that one memory and fed it, pulling forth other memories. After a few more moments, the trembling slowly ceased, buried along with his hurt, under piles and piles of remembered anger. He stiffly brought his arms up and squirmed against Goku's chest until his palms were pressed against the man's chest.

"Let me go," he whispered, rage burning in his tone. "I don't want you here." Goku's breathing was steady, never stuttering as he squeezed Gohan against him again before he released him and backed up. The man's eyes were unreadable and dark.

"I love you, Gohan," he said, his voice strong and sure. "I have always loved you, and I always will. Nothing can change that." Gohan remained still, his expression harsh as he stared at his father. Goku moved toward the bedroom door, but paused as he opened it.

"Not even you," he said, looking back on the teen. "Don't leave the house tonight." And then he was gone. Gohan breathed a deep sigh, his heart slowing back to normal. He glanced around his room before he walked forward and dropped face first onto the mattress.

_I'm screwed_, the teen thought to himself. _No matter what I do, I'm screwed. Damn, what do I do now?_ He turned his face to the side and brought his hands up to fist into his comforter on either side of his head as he stared at the window. If only he could convince his heart not to _ache_ so. Wearily, he closed his eyes and swallowed hard, feeling drained and restless at the same time. Frustrated, with his body still throbbing with the effort to close off his emotions so abruptly, Gohan shoved off of his bed and strode to the window. He shoved it open, ignoring his father's instructions not to leave, and crawled out, his feet quietly crunching the soft grass as he fled to the surrounding trees and disappeared.

_AN: There you have the next chapter. Sorry it has taken me so very long to post…I've been lazy. ^_~ I've got some fun things coming up, so stick with me!_


	16. And I Know, I May End Up Failing, Too

Chapter Sixteen

"And I Know, I May End Up Failing Too"

-Linking Park

Thank you to all who have reviewed/favored/alerted this story! It has been a nice boost!

_Warnings: There be language and bratty teenagers ahead! Enjoy!_

Two days later, Gohan again walked through the doors at Capsule Corp, a stale, absent air surrounding him as he stalked through the lobby, offering the barest of smiles and a wave to Tia, the younger receptionist: she had a real sweet spot for him and just about everyone knew it. His thoughts were tight and chaotic as he jammed his thumb into the basement button on the elevator, his scowl nearly a permanent fixture on his usually happy face. He and his father had not progressed any; in fact, Gohan's relationship with his male parent had become so obscure and tormented, that the teen had taken up directly and openly disobeying him at every turn. Indeed, the mood at the Son house was stark and stressful.

The night Gohan had left out of his window after Goku's visit had been dark and long, but the teenager had received a mild respite from the nearly constant yearnings within him. He had flown that night—about the only thing he could do—and had made it around the earth once before he was so tired and his ki so depleted that he literally fell asleep during flight. He awoke the next morning tucked into his own bed. Chichi had lectured him for an hour on his disobedience, while his father had remained his happy self but with a stern, tightlipped expression toward Gohan every now and then.

The ding of the elevator door broke through Gohan's thoughts, but as he entered the outer chamber of the lab, the teen's thoughts intruded once more. Quietly, Gohan put his lab coat on and frowned at the empty lab. Curious, he went in search of his lab mates and Bulma. Cheers from the larger, hanger room a few halls away caught his attention and as he started for the hall, Arale and Jesser opened the door to the hanger and walked out. Arale had her backpack over her shoulder.

"Oh, hey Gohan," she said happily. Gohan gave her a half smile. "Busted again, eh?"

"You know, I realize that you are only here part time, but do you ever actually go to school?" He asked. Arale rolled her eyes.

"For your information, I am going back to school right now," she said. "Do _you_ ever actually stay out of trouble?"

"Not anymore," Gohan muttered under his breath. Arale arched an eyebrow and shook her head.

"I'll take your word for it, then because it looks to me as if you're always here as punishment," she said as she waved happily and walked to the door. Gohan frowned and turned to Jesser.

"Well?" he snapped. Jesser shrugged.

"Don't look at me, I didn't say anything," he laughed. He turned back to the hanger room and opened the door, beckoning Gohan in first. "They're about to start up the ship and take it for a spin, you want to go?"

"Can't. I have to ask Bulma what I'm supposed to do today," he replied. Jesser shrugged and gestured to the hanger.

"She's in here," Jesser said as he entered the hanger, holding the door open for Gohan to follow.

"I never did ask how the concert went," Gohan asked. Jesser's face lit up with happiness.

"It was awesome!" He said. "Videl actually got up on stage and sang, too; who knew that she actually had a good voice!"

"Wow," Gohan commented as they neared the ship that Bulma had been working on for months.

"Arale got up there, too! You should have seen her, Gohan, no one had a clue that she could sing like she did; Videl was pissed after Arale got up there and showered her up. Of course, that just thrilled Arale even more," Jesser rambled. Gohan snorted.

"Gohan," Bulma called from near the ship. "So even with your father back you can't seem to stay out of trouble!" Gohan grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes angrily at his father's friend.

"Yes, well, you know how I am," Gohan replied thinly. Jesser seemed to pick up on the sudden shift in Gohan's mood and hastily made an excuse to get him out of Gohan's angry sphere. Gohan stepped over to Bulma and stood with his fisted hands down beside his legs. "I'm here, what do you want me to do?"

"Actually, I don't have anything really for you to do today," Bulma said, a frown on her face. "I told your mother that this morning, but she asked that you be allowed to come in today anyway for some reason." Gohan shrugged and turned to leave the hanger, but Bulma spoke again.

"Hey Gohan, give your dad a break okay? He's just doing his best," she said. Gohan's heart beat faster within his chest, but he shoved it down.

"Do you know anything about the blood test, yet?" Gohan asked in response, his back still turned to the scientist.

"Not yet, it will be a few more days, but I'm glad you mentioned that, because I did find something in Android Sixteen's memory banks that you might be interested in," she said, coming up beside him. "Come on, let's go to my office and I'll show you."

Bulma lead the way back into the lab and then down an opposite hall to the cluttered, small room that Gohan knew was Bulma's inner sanctum. Her desk sat facing the door with piles of paper and folders while the two overstuffed bookshelves stood guard behind her. A large computer screen hung from the wall to the right of the door and as they entered the room, Bulma shooed him toward an old, slumpy couch parked bellow the computer monitor.

"Wow, Bulma, is your screen big enough?" Bulma snorted as she settled into her desk chair.

"No, not quite, there is a larger one that I have been considering for a while," she replied in all seriousness. Gohan shook his head and stood next to her as she found and opened the file folder that held most of Android Sixteen's memory banks.

"Now, after Eighteen mentioned that we might want to look into Sixteen's memories, I pulled up what I had left and started going through it. Truthfully I did not find anything that meant anything until I found this." She pulled up a folder. "This thing is encrypted to the inth degree and password protected like you cannot imagine; whatever is in this thing Dr. Gero wanted no one to know about!"

"Have you been able to break the passwords?" Gohan asked. Bulma shook her head.

"No such luck yet, about the time I think I've got it, I get nada." Gohan frowned and turned to watch the screen, curious as the scientist's quick fingers type in several commands and came back up with alert screens, warning her that she was not allowed entry.

"Can I try?" Gohan asked, needing to put his fingers to work. Bulma shrugged.

"Sure. You work on this," she answered as she checked her wrist watch. "I am supposed to meet Vegeta and Trunks for lunch." She moved away from the computer and stooped to grab her jacket off of the couch on her way to the door. She turned back to look at the teen as she opened the door.

"Have you ever actually cracked a code before?" Gohan smiled at her.

"Of course not!"

"Ah, I figured as much. Well, no time like the present to learn! Go find Jesser if you have any questions but otherwise, good luck!" She turned and exited the door.

"If you crash my computer I will make you build me a new one!" He voice drifted back to Gohan as the door swung closed.

An hour and a half later, Gohan stood in the center of Bulma's office as the scientist inspected what remained of her computer. Her lips were tightly pressed together in a frown at the impossible smoke issuing from the computer before she looked up at Gohan.

"Well, at least you did not wreck my monitor!" Gohan winced and looked at the floor, but Bulma chuckled. "Don't worry, Gohan, you'll pay me back with a brand new computer and the knowledge that you will gain from building it."

"But Bulma, I've never built one before!" Gohan cringed. "What if I blow that one, too?"

"Nonsense, Gohan, my computer did not blow up because you were using it, it blew up because you did not know that the file was created with certain protections to enable it to shut off and snap back on, overloading the power supply." Gohan bit his lip as the scientist lifted her melted mouse with a frown.

"Although I do have to admit that that fire was impressive!" She added ruefully.

"I'm _really sorry_, Bulma!" Gohan said again. Bulma glanced at him and grinned so suddenly that Gohan gulped fearfully.

"No worries, my little slave, I shall have you building me another one in no time!" Gohan shook his head.

"Just one problem with that idea, Bulma," he began. "I don't know _how_ to build a computer!"

"I do," Seftee said from the doorway. She waved her hand in front of her face at the strong burnt odor and light smoky mist in the air. "Although I'm sure I'll have to keep a fire extinguisher within reach at all times!"

"Oh very funny, Sef," Gohan growled. Seftee walked into the room and smacked Gohan on the back lightly.

"Seftee that is an excellent idea! I was just wondering how I would manage to oversee him and do everything else I needed to; now you can make sure he doesn't blow anything up!" Seftee smiled, satisfied with her suggestion.

"Uh, do I have a say at all in this?" Gohan asked uncomfortably as the two women grinned at one another.

"No," they answered simultaneously. Gohan sighed and shook his head.

DBZ

Nearly six hours later, Gohan flew through the darkness towards home. He and Seftee had tracked down every small piece of hardware that they would need but for the super duper hyped up video card that Bulma had wanted to upgrade to anyways. It was on order and would come in the next few days. As they had scoured first Capsule Corp for all of Bulma's listed hardware—that had to be exact down to the brand—and then the rest of Satan City, Seftee had chattered nearly non-stop until the teen had wanted to pull his ears off, but in the long run, he had learned a lot.

It still did nothing to get rid of the headache that he had now or the exhaustion that he felt. It was a truly annoying side effect of the Energy Block that Bulma had designed: Gohan ran out of energy even to fly quicker than he ever would have wanted to admit to.

Suddenly, the thick darkness around him shimmered and a slender form appeared, five of the monkey creatures appearing at its side. Gohan let out a startled cry before all five of the monkeys had him in their grasp, and sent him spiraling to the ground below. Sharp, talon-like fingers wrapped around Gohan's wrists and ankles, one twisting impossibly strong arms around his neck as he went down, the earth coming quickly up to meet him. He cried out again in frustration at his weak attempts to shake the creatures off just before he crashed into the dense ground below. Rotten roots gave wave under his weight, tearing long scratches into his flesh as grainy bits of dirt ground into his clothes as well as the fresh wounds.

It was a moment before he caught his breath and recovered enough to slowly rise to his knees. The monkeys held strong to him, but neither their teeth nor their claws dug into his skin or injured him in any way. His right shoulder was dislocated and painfully threatened to drag him under into unconsciousness. The demi-Saiyajin blinked through watering eyes at the heavy material clad figure that dropped to the ground a few feet away from him, trying to stay focused even though his strength was ebbing away quickly.

"Where is it, child?" The figure demanded in a feminine voice. Confused, Gohan frowned at her.

"What?" he asked weakly, furious that his strength was bound. The figure quickly approached and leaned down, painfully grasping Gohan's injured shoulder, causing the teen to flinch and whimper.

"The stone you nasty Saiyajin half breed," she snarled. Gohan's breath caught in his chest at the woman's reply, frightened that she knew of the Saiyajin. The white hot fire in Gohan's shoulder soothed the raw endings in his chest, while causing his vision to swim in a nauseating back and forth motion.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" he cried. The woman's fingers tightened around his dislocated shoulder, and although Gohan could not see through her many layers of material, Gohan felt her scrutinize his face. Darkness began to edge around his vision as her fingers continued tightening around his wounded shoulder, making him gasp. "Please…"

"No, you do not know," the strange woman muttered almost to herself before she released Gohan's shoulder.

"But you _do_ have it!" She snarled as she turned away. "Bring him!" The strange monkeys began to lift Gohan from the ground, a flash of outright terror jerking though the teenager as they slowly rose into the dark sky. Barely a foot from the ground, however, a jolt rocked Gohan as the monkey at his neck was ripped away and with a mechanical screech was ripped into three pieces.

"Oops," a gravelly voice said from behind Gohan, who nearly sagged in relief at the sound of his mentor and friend.

"Who are you?" Goku demanded as he appeared between the woman and Gohan, slicing his hand into the monkeys at Gohan's wrists; the other two monkeys screeched and scampered to the woman, who stood suspended in the air.

"It is of no consequence," the woman said. She raised a hand, the material slipping away to reveal a slender hand with long, slender fingers.

"You will give it to me," she warned cryptically before she disappeared along with the two remaining creatures. With a groan, Gohan sank to the ground, bringing his left hand up to cradle his right arm. His shoulder throbbed and a prickly tingle ran from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers.

"Who was she?" Goku asked him as he kneeled before the teen. Gohan shook his head minutely, his teeth grit in an effort to hold in a groan as the pain in his shoulder began to throb along with his heartbeat. Fingers ran along Gohan's injured shoulder, gently fingering the dislocation, but with his eyes squeezed shut, Gohan bat them away with his left hand.

"We need to yank that back to where it's supposed to be, Gohan," Goku said quietly. Gohan groaned and bit his lip, knowing that he was going to lose consciousness from the pain. Or at least he hoped he would. A rough thumb brushed against his lips.

"Quit that or you will bite through it when we put your shoulder back." Goku's breath was warm and comforting against Gohan's face and suddenly, the howling was back so strong that the teen moaned. The pain in his shoulder quieted the internal cries in no time, though, making Gohan wonder if he wanted his shoulder back in place after all.

"Gohan," Goku repeated softly. Piccolo's arm came up behind Gohan and wrapped around his left arm, across his chest, and under his injured one, effectively holding him in place as Goku spoke again. "Stop biting your lip." Gohan's father grabbed his right arm at the shoulder and Gohan snapped his eyes open and opened his mouth to tell him to stop when Goku gave a wrench to his right shoulder. White hot fire erupted across Gohan's vision, stealing his breath and plunging him into a momentary darkness.

As consciousness returned, Gohan struggled to stop the world from spinning. His shoulder still throbbed but it seemed to be happier where it was rather than where it had been. Another thing he noticed was that his cheek was pressed weakly against his father's broad chest. His heart began to race while the desperate screams within his chest grew louder and louder. With a weak groan, Gohan used his left hand to push himself up and away from Goku's chest.

"Hey, easy son, just relax," Goku said. Gohan ignored him and managed to struggle to his feet, smacking Goku's hands away as his father tried to help him stand. Piccolo stood on his other side, but Gohan stubbornly stepped away. His whole frame trembled from exhaustion and pain, the Energy Block making worse his already stressed strength. Ignoring his father's voice behind him, Gohan stepped a few more feet away, desperate to prove that he could take care of himself, all the while his heart beat raced and his lungs heaved with the effort of keeping himself standing straight. A hand rested on his shoulder and with the last of his strength, Gohan shrugged it off before he succumbed to the darkness.

DBZ

"…the woman was nuts."

"No, she wanted Gohan and would have taken him if we had not shown up."

"What was he doing out here so late?"

"Coming back from Capsule Corporation."

"Ah, in trouble again?"

"I don't know what to say, Piccolo, he's been…beyond just difficult." His father sighed and Gohan became aware that the wind whispered against his back as his father flew through the air. Goku cradled Gohan tightly against his chest, unaware that the teenager was once again awake and listening to their conversation.

"Goku, he has had a difficult few years since you died." Piccolo paused a moment. "You're alive for good, aren't you, Goku?" Gohan's pulse throbbed within his veins at Piccolo's words; he held his breath as his father answered.

"Yes, Piccolo, I am," Goku replied. Gohan's heart nearly burst as he heard the words. He struggled against Goku's arms, and snapped his eyes open. Surprised, Goku stopped in mid-air and glanced down at his son.

"Let me go!" The teenager demanded viciously.

"Gohan, would you stop for a minute?" Goku asked. Resigned to how weak he still felt, Gohan stilled and glared angry holes into his father's face.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked furiously. Goku looked uncomfortable for a moment before he answered.

"I wasn't sure that you would be happy about it," the man admitted quietly. Piccolo remained quiet beside his onetime enemy. Gohan waged an internal war as he looked at his father's mixed expression. On one hand, he _was_ happy that his father was alive again—which frightened him. On the other hand, however, Gohan was still angry at the man for the dangerous pain within his chest, and more so terrified of what the man's very presence could do to him.

Gohan opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut again, not able to speak any of the words that came to mind. Instead, his shoulders drooped and he leaned his head against his father's chest, gritting his teeth and dealing with the intense hurt the action brought to his caged emotions. He was simply too tired to continue on his own.

"I'm tired," he whispered. He shut his eyes against the moisture there, stemming the flow before it could start, and commanded himself to breath. After a moment, Goku continued flying, his arms tightening around the teenager.

"Gohan, do you know who that woman was?" Goku asked. Gohan slit his eyes open just enough to see the dark emblem on Goku's chest.

"No," he said. "I've never seen her before."

"What happened before we got there?" He asked.

"Nothing much," Gohan admitted. "Those monkey things just attacked me right after she appeared and then she demanded I give her some stone."

"Did she say what stone?" Piccolo asked.

"Nope, the crazy lady just wanted a stone. Wish I had been thinking and I would have offered to go fetch her one!" Gohan said ruefully. Goku's chest rumbled with a chuckle.

"I'm sure that would not have gone over well," his father said.

"Did you see her face, Gohan?" Piccolo asked.

"No. I didn't even know she was a she until she spoke." Gohan frowned. "Although she knew I was a Saiyajin half-breed." Goku stopped and looked down at him again.

"What? She knew about Saiyajin?" Sleepily, Gohan nodded. Goku's expression tightened and he continued flying, his dark brows pulled low over his eyes.

They reached home in a matter of minutes, but by that time, Gohan had succumbed to sleep. Goku put Gohan to bed before he reassured Chichi that he was okay. Goten was already in bed, but Bird sat atop the kitchen counter, her blond hair covered her shoulders and pooled about her hips on the counter top.

"Gohan was attacked by a woman?" Chichi sounded shocked and beyond appalled after Goku had finished telling her about the evening's events. "But he's only a child!" Goku could have laughed at his wife's expression.

"Chichi, she was after some kind of stone, not Gohan exactly," he clarified. Chichi did not appear convinced.

"Whatever the woman is after, we know now where those monkey androids come from," Piccolo supplied. Goku nodded his head, agreeing.

"I just wish I knew why she was after my son," Goku said, irritation marring his normally happy expression. "I don't like the idea of not knowing who she is or what stone she's after."

"Or why she thinks Gohan has it," Chichi muttered darkly. "She better not hurt my son or I'll have to kill her!"

"Don't worry, Chichi," Goku said with a smile. He turned to Piccolo. "I'm going to shadow Gohan."

"Eh, you think he would allow you to?" Piccolo asked ruefully. Goku's expression became severe.

"He will allow it or I will not allow him to leave the house," he said firmly. Surprise flickered across Piccolo's face at Goku's adamant tone.

"We could just explain to him why you want to follow him," Chichi offered hopefully. "Gohan's a smart boy; he knows that you just want him to be safe." Goku shook his head.

"I'll tell him, but I'm pretty sure he will not agree with me," he answered sadly.

The next morning fulfilled Goku's prediction as Gohan crossed his arms across his chest, looking every bit the part of a bratty teenager. Krillin had come by with Yamcha on their way to Master Roshi's Island. They had come by just to say hi, but Goku filled them in on what had happened the night before and had joined the discussion when Gohan had walked in.

"I do _not_ need you to babysit me!" Gohan shouted. From the roof, Piccolo winced and rubbed at his ears.

"Gohan, I am not babysitting you, I just want to make sure that you're safe whenever you leave the house," Goku said, trying to reason with the teen. Gohan stood, his hands fisted against his thighs, across from his father in the kitchen. Goten sat at the table in Bird's lap, his dark eyes large and bright with shimmering tears while Yamcha nervously shifted from foot to foot. Krillin's mouth had popped open in surprise at the outburst.

"Essentially the same thing," Gohan grumbled. "Either way you cut it, if you would just take this damn thing off I could take care of myself." The teen smacked the Energy Block with his hand.

"Gohan, you need to calm down and stop shouting," Chichi rebuked from the sink, a dishrag in her hand.

"What is wrong with you, Mom? He _chooses_ to stay dead for four years and you're okay with that?" He shouted in return. Chichi's dark eyes widened.

"Gohan, I am thrilled that he is alive again, I just wish you would be, too." Gohan snorted.

"My father died and left us for four year; he does not have any right to come back and tell me what I can and cannot do!" He spat, anger filling his heart. Goku chuckled darkly.

"What's your reason for not obeying your mother, then, Gohan?" the older Saiyajin asked quietly. Gohan's cheeks warmed dark red in fury.

"Whatever my reasons, they're none of your business," Gohan said, pure poison dripping from his tongue. Chichi gasped, her own cheeks flushing with anger as she stepped forward. Goku beat her to the mark, though, and yanked Gohan up by the front of his gi until they were nose to nose, his dark eyes filled with contained fury.

"Enough of your mouth, son," Goku said dangerously. Gohan felt pure hatred bubble up within him as Goku released him and he stumbled backwards a few steps. Everyone in the kitchen seemed to hold their breaths, waiting for the next foot to fall.

"Why? Do you have a problem with the truth?" Gohan snapped. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Gohan felt his heart drop to his feet, an abstract fear edging into his chest as the howling grew in pitch, but before Gohan could add or detract from his damning words, he was thrown to the floor, his cheek erupting in fire.

"I said that's enough," Goku said quietly. Dazed, Gohan reached his left hand up and fingered the tender flesh on his left cheek, staring at his father from the floor where he had landed after his father had slapped him. There was something unnamed within Gohan's heart that urged him on, feeding the horrible hurt within him, and encouraging him to say the other things that he had wanted to say for a long time.

"No, it's not near enough," Gohan said quietly, his body trembling. "You came back after four years and expected everything to just pick up where you left off, but it is not going to! I am not a child anymore!" He shouted as he scrambled to his feet. Dimly he was aware that Piccolo had come down from the roof and stood in the doorway, watching the exchange, but he did not care.

"Yes, you are," Goku insisted. "And what's more, whether you want it or not, you are _my_ child."

"I share your genes but that's just biology; you left," Gohan returned forcefully. "You have no rights to come back after so long and order me around!"

"And your mother?" Goku asked dangerously. Gohan heard the warning, but he did not care.

"Mom was so busy with other stuff she might as well have been gone," Gohan said angrily, fully admitting that he had always felt that way even though he had never been willing to hurt his mother. But she had showed whose side she was on.

"Gohan!" Chichi gasped, the eyes she shared with her eldest son reflecting hurt.

"Don't, Mom," he said, interrupting her. "It's too late now, anyways."

"Gohan, I'm sorry that you feel that way, but you are fifteen years old; you _do_ have to obey us," Chichi said softly. Gohan shook his head.

"You can say what you want, but I won't do it," Gohan vowed, his dark eyes meeting his father's in outright defiance, his heart thrilling with unspent emotion. Without turning, Goku addressed Krillin.

"Krillin, Yamcha, I think you'd better go now," his voice was low and steady. Eerily, Gohan felt that his dad was considering something. Krillin jumped when Goku spoke to him, his eyes round orbs in his head.

"Uh, sure, right," the monk stuttered.

"Yeah, see ya later, Goku," Yamcha said. He nearly tripped over himself in his haste to evacuate the house. Krillin stopped at the door and glanced around the room, at Gohan who still stood, his chin lifted defiantly, to his best friend. Goku's back was straight, his shoulders squared as he faced his son. Piccolo was near the open door, his expression unreadable, while Chichi looked as if she could burst into tears. With a heavy heart, Krillin left the mountain.

"Bird, will you take Goten for a walk?" Goku asked. Her blue eyes were downcast and moist, but once Goku uttered her name, she rose, still holding tightly to the struggling little boy, and moved toward the door.

"I will go with them," Piccolo suggested from the doorway, surprising the teenager.

"No! Wanna stay wif Go'an!" The little boy called, his face scrunched up and angry.

"Hush, Goten, and go with Bird and Piccolo," Chichi ordered quietly. Shocked at his mother's tone, the little boy hushed and sadly stared after his brother, his chubby arms wrapping tightly around Bird's neck for comfort.

"Gohan, you will not speak that way to any of us," Goku said. Gohan's dark eyes flashed, even though he knew that he was stepping off into oblivion.

"You have no right to tell me to do otherwise," he snapped. He heard his mother gasp before his father had him backed against the kitchen wall, his feet not touching the ground as he met twin angry dark eyes.

"Enough, Gohan," Goku ordered. As close as they were, Gohan could see as well as feel his father's pulse pumping loads of blood through his body, but the howling within Gohan sounded frantic, not hungry. Almost as if Goku's fierceness startled the caged emotions, too.

"No," Gohan returned, his voice low, his chin still lifted in defiance. Goku's expression never wavered and for a moment, the air seemed to pause. Abruptly, Goku set Gohan on his feet and yanked him outside, the teen stumbling to keep up with his father's quick stride.

To be continued!

_I am honestly dreading the next chapter. I have thus far written this however I so wish it, but what comes next, although necessary in a way, will not be liked by all. So with that being said, I am going to resort to bribery: Review if you want the next chapter!_


	17. In Between

Chapter Seventeen

"In Between"

-Linking Park

_Thank you to all whom have review!_

_I almost had this posted and realized that I had no warning on it. So here ya go, there is material about to come up that some will have issues with. I realize this, but the story will come round and make sense. At least it does for me, which is the whole point. WARNING! VIOLENCE AND LANGUAGE AHEAD! _

_Please no flames, you **were** warned!_

Gohan's heart beat erratically against his ribs, anger still fueling him. The howling within his chest had seemed to be scared to nearly nothing. As Goku yanked him across the yard, Gohan only allowed himself to vaguely wonder where his father was taking him; he was too overcome with the thin mewling that was his unspent emotion. As they reached the surrounding forest, however, Gohan overcame his terrified anger enough to speak.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked, his voice coming out more unsure than he would have liked it to sound. His father remained quiet but stopped suddenly and spun around, his left hand still clenched tightly around Gohan's wrist.

"Right here," he said, his dark eyes held an emotion that chilled Gohan. He reached out his right hand and ripped a ring finger sized, three foot long stick from the nearest tree. With realization dawning in Gohan's mind, the howling nearly ceased inside the teen's chest while his stomach plummeted to the leaf scattered forest floor.

"You tell me when you've had enough," Goku offered, his face blank and his eyes set.

_Ah hell_, Gohan thought ruefully. Goku gripped his left bicep tightly and turned Gohan to the side without saying another word. Instead, for the first time in Gohan's life, his father let the switch do the talking. Gohan grit his teeth, surprised that after all of the battles he had been a part of, his father could make a whipping actually _hurt_.

Goku did not speak one word and Gohan could not comfortably see his father's face, but after about a dozen, Gohan's fury was nearly getting the better of him. His legs shook from the effort to hold him up, but Gohan had the sneaking suspicion that Goku would hold him up himself and just keep on going. The howling had lowered to grumbles from their cage, but Gohan knew it was not enough to silence them forever. Besides, Goku whipping him to prove that he was still his parent did not seem a fool-proof plan to Gohan. Instead, the teenager squirmed and stood on tip toes, the rage burning within his heart burning just about as hot as his rear end currently was.

"You think this will make a difference?" Gohan snarled, his voice shaking with emotion. Goku paused and shifted Gohan's position to see his face. "You still can't come back and be a parent after four years!"

"Maybe just this once it won't make a difference, but you will remember this every single time you disobey and I will leave the marks to help you remember," Goku said calmly. Gohan's eyes grew wide as Goku spun him again and continued busting his butt. Goku seemed to be renewed in his efforts to bring Gohan back under his control. Sweat had broken out on Gohan's forehead while Goku remained cool, calm and collected, as if he were merely doing the dishes after dinner instead of beating the tar out of his fifteen year old son.

Gohan yelped and side stepped after Goku landed the switch where Gohan's tail had once been, making his father pause. Shivering and beginning to wonder about his intelligence in challenging the man, Gohan hoped maybe they were finished when Goku landed another against the same spot.

"Yowch!" Gohan cried again, feeling his resolve crumbling as the howling within him began to get louder. Goku gripped Gohan's bicep tighter, making the teen wince before unleashing on the spot where Gohan's tail had been. After the first two strikes, Gohan whimpered a few times, but after the third, Gohan broke down and called it quits.

"Okay! I get it, just stop!" He snapped. His legs were weak with relief when his father actually did stop and turned him to look into his eyes. Goku had both of his arms in his hands, gently holding the right one that was still a little sore from the previous evening.

"Are you through, Gohan?" The Saiyajin asked. Goku's eyes were glossy and wide, his dark eyebrows pulled down low over them. "You do not call the shots, Gohan; you're fifteen and still a child and no matter what happened in the past, I am here now and together we will work past this." Still angry, but realizing that he could not take much more, the teenager nodded his head. Goku pulled him into a tight hug, pressing Gohan's head against his chest. With a thin sinking feeling, Gohan felt like crying as the howling grew in intensity, consuming him. He knew this was far from over, the thick hole-like pain in his chest as his first clue.

DBZ

No one mentioned the morning's events at lunch that afternoon or at dinner later that night. Goku had noticed a drastic change in Gohan but he had an inkling that it was not a good change. The teenager remained quiet and brooding the remainder of the day, not wanting to talk to Bird or play with Goten. Goku began to feel helpless, as if perhaps he had made a drastic mistake in his earlier handling of his son.

The next morning, Gohan returned to Capsule Corp. The missing video card was supposed to be in by that point and Seftee was going to show him how to build the new computer, but as he entered the lab, Seftee was speaking furiously into the phone before she slammed it back into its cradle. She muttered several colorful words under her breath—making Gohan feel relieved that he could not hear them—before she saw him.

"Hey," she offered. Gohan lifted his right hand and flexed each finger in a wave. The young woman chuckled, her eyes lighting at the teen. Other than Seftee, Deban stood a few feet away, his bespectacled eyes glued to the bright flicker of a computer screen. Gohan seriously wondered sometimes if the man would be able to function without his daily hours in front of the computer screen.

"Problems?" He asked. He moved closer to her as she growled low in the back of her throat.

"They ordered the wrong card," she snarled. Gohan smiled at her animalistic expression.

"It will be here tomorrow; they have over-nighted it," she explained.

"Ah," Gohan answered. Seftee glanced at her watch.

"Bulma had nothing else for you to do, so you can go; I'm going to try and catch my science professor before he gets to class: I have to ask him a question."

Gohan and Seftee parted ways at the entrance to Capsule Corp. after agreeing to meet again two days later. Seftee had classes the next day, so they couldn't meet then. After she hurried off, Gohan stood for a moment, not sure where to go; his mother did not expect him back home until nearly nightfall.

Gohan frowned as his chest grumbled angrily. His father had escorted him up at dawn, hell bent on his new idea of Gohan having a babysitter at all times. After their previous morning, their trip had been nothing but tense silence. Yesterday, after they had returned to the house, Goku had 'suggested' that Gohan go back to his room and stay there. His mother had 'suggested' he catch up on studies and so Gohan had been confined to his room. Goku had even brought his meals to him, acting as if nothing at all had happened, although the angry red lines on his person would argue otherwise.

Agitated, Gohan began walking away from Capsule Corp. He had heard that Marron had been released from the hospital and with a pang, Gohan realized that he had not been very nice to his friend the day before. He turned his steps toward Krillin's and Eighteen's house, trying to figure out what he would say to his friend once he reached his destination.

Before he had actually decided on how his apology would go, he had arrived on their front porch. Through the front window of the domed capsule house, Gohan saw the blue eyes, round face, and short blond pigtails of Marron. The child stood between the dark blue curtain and the window neither smiling nor waving. Gohan felt mildly chilled at the unnatural stillness of the girl and warily raised his left hand in greeting. The dark blue drapes billowed and were drawn away to reveal Eighteen. She spoke to the little girl, a beautiful smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around the little girl. She glanced up and out the window, surprise flickering across her face as she saw Gohan—his hand still in the air in greeting. She disappeared from view, leaving the little girl at the window by herself as Eighteen opened the door.

"Hello, Gohan," she greeted quietly, opening the door wide.

"Hi," the teen replied. "Is Krillin here?"

"He's in the shower; he just got back from work. Do you want to come in and wait for him?" Her voice was its husky self, her blue eyes sharp and nearly cold and only warming if she looked at her daughter or husband.

"Um, sure," Gohan answered. If he was truthful, to himself, he would admit that Eighteen still made him nervous, but he ignored it and entered the house.

Marron had removed herself from behind the drapes and stood, clutching a blond haired baby doll to her side and watching Gohan closely.

"Would you like some lemonade?" Eighteen asked. "I was about to get some for Miss Marron." Again the one time android smiled at her daughter and with a jolt, Gohan realized the most likely reason Krillin had gotten to know and eventually married the woman: she was very beautiful whenever she smiled.

"Sure. Can I help?" Gohan asked politely. Eighteen shook her head, a gentle smile still on her face.

"No, that's—"

"Do you want to see my pictures?" Marron interrupted. Gohan blinked.

"Marron, it's very rude to interrupt, remember" Eighteen corrected gently. Marron tore her eyes away from Gohan for a moment and gazed up at her mother.

"Sorry, Mommy," she whispered. Eighteen rested a hand on the girl's head and gently smiled again.

"Sure, Marron, I would love to see your pictures," Gohan answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Alright, you two look at pictures and I'll bring lemonade," Eighteen said. Marron slipped her tiny hand into Gohan's and tugged as her mother left the room. The little girl remained attached to Gohan's hand as he sat at the tiny table Marron lead him to before she climbed into his lap.

Her art area was a corner of the living room where a short wall had been placed to give her what looked like a cubicle. Her artwork graced nearly every inch of the walls, and several piles on the table. Many were highly detailed drawings of the world from Marron's view; all were amazing works of art in their own right. Marron was an exceptional three year old.

"Look," the girl said, pointing her left pointer finger at a binder tucked under the other papers. Gohan followed her orders and tugged the folder toward them before he flipped it open. His breath caught in his throat as he saw a vivid depiction of himself. In the picture, he was curled up on his side, his expression a vision of grief. The entire picture was drawn with dark red pencil and shaded in such a way that reminded Gohan of blood and with an ill feeling, he realized there was also a bleeding wound on his wrist. A silver blade lay haphazardly on the bare dirt beside him, sending his animalistic emotions haywire.

"Kami, Marron!" Gohan exclaimed quietly, glancing toward the kitchen furtively. "Where did you get this?"

"I saw it," she replied, her luminous blue eyes fixed on his face. Gohan paled and looked at the folder again, turning the page with a thrill of terror.

Next was an image distorted like a mirrors reflection of Gohan that had been shattered but was still part of the whole. Around him were smaller, individual pictures of people in Gohan's life reflected in smaller glass chips.

Beyond that was another picture of Gohan, done in shades of blue. The teen stood off to the left side, his clothes and hair weighed down with rain—white marks stroked through the picture. His expression was one that Gohan recognized: desolation. The teen's heart constricted, his face paled and his fingers trembled, but Marron clutched her doll in one arm and touched Gohan's hand with the other.

"It's okay," she said softly. Gohan wanted to cry at the childish way she comforted him. Marron fingered the papers and slid the page over to reveal another picture: one with a woman and a spaceship and oddly terrifying monkey-like creatures.

"Marron," Gohan gasped. After all he had seen he should not have been surprised, but still the monkeys and spaceship, not to mention the woman from the night before, truly shocked him.

"Hey, Gohan," Krillin said as he walked in with two glasses of yellow lemonade. Eighteen followed with two more glasses, an odd blush on her cheeks. Gohan, still reeling from the disturbing pictures, was shocked to realize that from the slightly rosy, swollen quality to her lips, she and her husband had taken advantage of his presence and had engaged in a kissing marathon while in the kitchen.

"Daddy!" Marron cried. She jumped down from Gohan's lap and hurled herself at the Monk who thankfully, had just put down his glasses of lemonade on the coffee table.

"Hey, Marron-Girl!" he said, happily scooping the little girl up and cradling her in his arms. Gohan, already feeling loose and rattled, felt his chest muscles constrict at the careful, tender way Krillin held his child. Eighteen offered Gohan a glass of lemonade and with a deeply thankful feeling within his heart, he accepted it and took a drink for a distraction.

Krillin put Marron down as Gohan tucked the disturbing folder of pictures back on the table where it was. He did not want Krillin to see them if he had not already.

"What are you doing here, Kiddo?" Krillin asked, looking up at Gohan.

"I had time and thought I'd come by," Gohan said. He shifted from one foot to the other. "I wanted to apologize for yesterday. It wasn't your fault and I'm sorry you had to see that and that I behaved that way with you guys there." Krillin clapped him on the shoulder, a gentle smile on his face.

"Apology accepted," he said happily. Eighteen and Marron had sat down on the couch and were having their own conversation about Moe, Marron's doll.

"Give your dad a break, Kid, he's not used to being alive yet, you know?" Gohan frowned.

"Did you know he was alive permanently?" He asked. Krillin's shocked expression was enough, but he opened his mouth and laughed just to punctuate his shock.

"Wow, really? That's great! I bet your mother is thrilled," he said happily. Gohan shrugged.

"Yeah," Gohan muttered, glaring at the floor. Krillin shifted closer, a sad, frustrated expression on his face.

"But you're not, it sounds like," Krillin said with a sigh. His dark eyes perused the teenager, the skin between his eyebrows wrinkled into a worried frown. "When are you going to forgive him, Gohan? You know he did what he thought was best." Gohan snarled an unintelligible comment, his lips quirked into an ugly snarl for a half second before he got himself under control. Krillin shook his head.

"Were you working with Bulma again?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, sort of," Gohan replied, forcing himself to relax some. He took another sip of the cool yellow liquid and allowed it to slide down his throat, cooling his internal temper and easing the tightness in his chest. "I exploded Bulma's computer a few days ago."

"You exploded it?" Krillin asked incredulously. Gohan smiled tightly and nodded his head.

"Yeah, it was an accident!" Krillin chuckled.

"So, are you fixing it or building a new one? Or has Bulma banned you from Capsule Corp.?" Eighteen asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Marron sat comfortably in her mother's lap. Gohan laughed hollowly.

"And take away my parents' favorite mode of punishment? Hah, no such luck," Gohan replied dryly. "Seftee—one of Bulma's interns—is helping me rebuild a newer, faster one; I've never actually built a computer on my own."

"That is great practice," Eighteen offered. Silently, Gohan nodded his agreement.

"Yeah, Seftee knows a bunch about computers; I'm learning a lot."

"Krillin, Marron needs her nap," Eighteen said quietly. "Go say goodbye to Gohan, give Daddy a kiss, and I'll read you a story before nap."

Marron dropped to the floor and scooted to Gohan. She lifted her arms up into the air and Gohan obliged by lifting her up into his arms. Innocently, she cupped her hands to his ears and whispered.

"Don't tell my Mommy or Daddy, okay?" Gohan nodded, hugged the girl, and set her on the ground. Krillin watched his wife and daughter disappeared down the hallway before he turned back to the teenager,

"So," Krillin said after the two were out of sight. He clamped a hand on Gohan's shoulder, his expression firm. "You should really think about giving your dad a chance, Kid."

"Back to this again, Krillin? Just drop it," he said quietly. A flash of pain shot through Krillin's eyes, but Gohan ignored it and shrugged his hand off, setting his lemonade glass back onto the coffee table.

"I've got to get going," he announced abruptly.

"I know you think it's none of my business, but you should give him a chance; he loves you, Gohan and he just wanted to protect you." Gohan's jaw clenched tightly for a second before he moved closer to the door.

"Thanks for the lemonade and tell Eighteen 'bye' for me," he said.

"Okay," Krillin said hesitantly, his brow drawn down into a frown as he dropped his hands to his sides. "Well, Gohan, drop by any time and take care of yourself."

"Yeah, I will," Gohan said as he opened the door. Before he could make his escape, Krillin put a hand to his arm.

"I mean it, Gohan," he replied. "If you ever need anyone to talk to, just come by." Gohan nodded and stepped through the door and down the steps.

"Is everything okay?" Eighteen asked, leaning down to curl her arms around her husband. Krillin watched the teenager until he was out of sight before he shut the door with a sigh.

"I hope so," he replied, a frown marring his expression. Eighteen kissed the top of his shiny bald head affectionately as the telephone's shrill ring sounded from the kitchen.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Krillin," she said over her shoulder as she answered the phone. Her voice was a muffled backdrop to Krillin's thoughts as he slumped into a blue chair. _I sure hope you're paying attention to your son, Goku, because he is really in trouble,_ he thought to himself. With a sigh, he looked up as Eighteen strode back into the room.

"That was Bulma; Gohan apparently was not supposed to be leaving Capsule Corporation without Goku to escort him," she announced. Krillin groaned and smacked himself hard in the forehead.

"Of course not! That was what their argument yesterday was _about_! How stupid can I get?" He grumbled to himself.

"Krillin, Goku's on his way in this direction to get him," she said, resting her hand on her husband's shoulder to keep him from flying out the door. "Besides, the kid's old enough to know not to leave when he's told. Don't you think?"

"Yeah, but he's just a kid, Eighteen," Krillin replied, his expression sad. "He's just a kid that's had a hard time; Goku should not have left him the way he did."

"That 'kid' destroyed Cell's minions and Cell himself with very little trouble," she replied dryly. "Don't think for a second that he's helpless." Krillin shook his head.

"It's not that, Eighteen," he said. "Gohan has always been judged by how powerful he is, but Piccolo was right, Gohan is more than just ki. I think Goku's view of Gohan was overshadowed by memories of what he was like as a child." Krillin sighed unhappily.

"He's not Goku," Eighteen murmured. "But he is old enough to grow up and realize that life happens sometimes."

"Normally I would agree, but Gohan was so hurt by his leaving…" with another sigh the monk left his sentence hanging.

"If you want my opinion," Eighteen said, kneeling down and curling her arms tighter around the man. "Goku needs to wake up and realize that his son will lose all respect for him and then all of his self respect very quickly if he does not reach him and stop this erratic behavior." Krillin sighed, his brow creased with heavy worry.

"What's done is done," he whispered to himself. Eighteen tightened her hold. "I just hope Goku reaches him before something bad happens."

DBZ

Gohan walked along and kicked a stone, sending it skidding into the gutter beside the street. His thoughts wondered from Krillin's words to his daughter's graphic pictures. He was still surprised by the girl's frightening depictions. They were excellent no doubt, but their prophetic ability was amazing. Marron drew and painted as if she could pull those memories and visions directly from her mind.

His stomach flip flopped and his chest cinched tight, but he continued walking and thinking, ignoring the houses that had given way to shops and people walking and talking and living a carefree life. Gohan ached to be one of them; perhaps the man in the bookstore or the one cooking in the restaurant.

The teen sighed and continued on, deep in his thoughts and the despair they caused. Some part of him knew Krillin believed what he said and that Krillin was still his friend, but the other, the part that howled any time anyone—especially Son Goku—came too close or spoke words that roused his beasts, this part knew that he was on his own and that he was going to have to save himself because no one could do it for him.

"Gohan!" Goku snapped as he dropped from the sky and landed directly in front of the teen. Without turning, Gohan knew that Vegeta had landed behind him.

"You were not supposed to leave Capsule Corp.," He said. His eyes were dark and narrowed, his eyebrows lowered over them.

"Oh, I guess I forgot," Gohan mumbled carelessly as he walked by. Goku reached out and snatched his right bicep.

"Gohan, you have a dangerous stranger after you! And whether you want to or not, you have to do what I tell you to do." Vegeta snorted from behind Gohan, but Gohan ignored him.

"I'm safe, aren't I?" The teenager groused, annoyed by the unusual restrictions placed on him. "I've been safe for four years so far, haven't I?"

"Gohan, it does not matter what has happened for the past four years, right now you are not supposed to go anywhere on your own!"Goku said. Anger had invaded his normally happy voice. Gohan noticed the change and glanced up from the ground to his father's face.

"Nothing happened," he said. "Besides, you have a tracking device on me, remember?" He said, bending his elbow and revealing the Energy Block. Goku sighed and closed his eyes.

"Never mind, Gohan, let's just get back to Capsule Corp.," Goku said, dropping his hand. Gohan shrugged and glanced around at the handful of people who had been along the little street when his father and Vegeta had dropped from the sky. Most of them had grouped together with frightened, curious expressions on their faces.

Vegeta shot off into the sky, eliciting a cry from the gathered crowd. Gohan shook his head and followed his father into the air. Goku remained close to Gohan, a strained, furious expression on his face as they flew towards Capsule Corp. But after they landed, Goku turned to address the teenager again.

"Don't take off like that again, Gohan," he said. "I want you safe." Gohan rolled his eyes.

"Then take off the Block," Gohan returned tightly. Goku frowned uncertainly.

"That's not a good idea yet; you need to start listening first," he said. Gohan growled with annoyance.

"Whatever," he mumbled, keeping his voice low for privacy from the many people around Capsule Corp. "I'm going to go see what I can do about Bird's history."

Gohan turned to walk away, his eyes on Capsule Corp., but Goku stopped him with a hand on the teen's shoulder.

"I have a better idea," Goku said. In an instant, Gohan mentally cursed to find himself directly outside Vegeta's Gravity Room.

_I hate Instant Transmission!_ Gohan thought to himself.

"Vegeta!" Goku called, all worry erased from his face.

"I know he's back in here," Goku commented quietly to Gohan. "I was sparring with him while you were working."

"Big surprise," the teenager muttered. Goku glanced at him with a sharp look that vanished in a moment as he opened the Gravity Room door. Inside, Vegeta was at the controls, fiddling with a dial.

"Want some training partners?" Goku asked, his face easily cracking into a smile. Vegeta snorted and narrowed his eyes.

"Shut the damn door!" Vegeta snapped. Goku ushered Gohan into the room and allowed the door to close behind them. Without a word, Vegeta moved away from the controls, a blank expression on his face. Goku gleefully approached the Prince and dropped into a fighting stance, while Gohan struggled to stand upright against the far wall.

_Wow_, he thought, _who would ever believe Vegeta was being easy on me all of those times before!_ Gohan took as deep a breath as he could manage, the high gravity pushing against his lungs; every muscle in his body trembled with the strain of standing upright.

A few feet away, Vegeta launched himself at Goku, his teeth barred and a snarl on his face, before both men became one big blur of fists and grunts. Drops of perspiration appeared on Gohan's forehead. His calf muscles ached, his thigh muscles trembled, and his arms shook as he struggled against the gravity in the room. With a moan through his clenched teeth, Gohan sank to the ground onto his hands and knees. His shoulders and elbows groaned from the weight, but Gohan forcefully ignored it and willed himself to stand.

_If this stupid Energy Block were not on me, I would transform and blow up the whole damn room!_ He thought.

"Hey, Gohan!" Goku called from where Vegeta had him pinned to the wall. "You want to join in?"

Annoyed, the teenager glared at his father and painfully lifted his right arm and showed him the Energy Block again.

"Oh yeah," Goku said, trying to avoid Vegeta's fist.

_What a life_, Gohan thought with a sigh.

Two hours later and Gohan's face was pressed to the floor of the Gravity Room with Vegeta's knee jabbing painfully into his lower spine, while the man's hands were pressed against his shoulder blades.

"Have anything else to say, you little shit?" He asked. Goku stood beside them.

"Vegeta, you probably—"

"Of course I do you sleazy coward!" Gohan interrupted. He yelped as Vegeta smacked the back of his head hard enough to make him see stars. "You have no problem against a kid with an Energy Block!"

Vegeta growled angrily and Gohan's chest was crushed so tightly against the floor that black began to edge into his vision. His lungs ached and his heart began to thud painfully against his ribs.

"I have zero tolerance for your mouth and attitude, boy!" he spat, the fingers of his right hand tightening against Gohan's neck muscles. The teenager moaned into the metal floor and closed his eyes. If he was honest with himself, he would acknowledge that he desperately wanted the moisture behind his lids to go away, but Gohan simply was not honest—with himself or anyone else.

"Nothing else to say, brat?" Vegeta snarled.

Gohan's lungs were tight and threatening to close—therefore Gohan remained silent. His father shifted beside them and Gohan sensed his discomfort. He had been honestly trying to get his too heavy body off the floor when his father had happily asked 'isn't this fun, Gohan?' Gohan had snapped and asked if he looked like he was having fun. His father's face had shifted, a hurt echoed in his happy face that pulled against Gohan's heart. To force the feeling down, he had dug deeper and said, 'don't worry; I don't expect a selfish bastard like you to care.' His father's face had paled with hurt before his eyebrows turned down in anger. Vegeta had got to him first.

The door opened to the back of the room and the gravity suddenly clicked off, throwing Vegeta's weight off enough that Gohan could breathe so much easier. He turned toward the door and caught sight of Trunks in the doorway.

"What do you want, boy?" Vegeta asked. Gohan had a feeling that the Prince was holding his tongue and showing a verbal restraint that surprised the teenager.

"Are you ever coming out?" Trunks asked. Vegeta stood and rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, the action surprising Gohan.

"Did your mother send you?" He asked mildly, crossing his arms over his chest. Goku stood back and watched Gohan, an unreadable expression on his face at the curious shiver to the teenager's dark eyes.

"Yup," the child answered, glancing curiously at Gohan on the floor. Vegeta growled and stalked to the Gravity Room door and shoved the child from the room.

"Tell your mother I'll be out when I'm ready and to mind her own business," he snapped. Trunks turned and stared at his father.

"I can't tell Mommy that!" His blue eyes were wide and fearful as he stared at his parent. He glanced to the side, peeking toward the house. "She'll be mad," he whispered, as if Vegeta were totally clueless. The Saiyajin Prince shook his head again and pushed the child farther outside.

"Get lost," he growled as he stepped back into the room and smashed the button to shut the door. Trunks stood outside, a nearly comical expression of dread on his young face.

Goku, for the most part, had been closely watching his son, oblivious to the Saiyajin Prince and the little half-Prince. Gohan's features remained still, but his dark eyes were torrential; a miniature storm within the dark orbs curled and yanked against Goku's heart strings. Again he was stumped by the realization that the teenager was the same child who had held so tightly to his knees all those years ago. Goku bit his lip, a storm of emotions collecting in Goku's chest and confusing him. He was not accustomed to so many emotions rolling through him.

As Vegeta stepped back into the room, Goku knelt down to Gohan and pulled the teenager up by his under arms.

"Well, Chichi will be making supper soon and I promised I'd get Gohan home early for some school work before bed," he said. Gohan glanced at him curiously, but remained quiet. Vegeta waved his hand at them, as if His Majesty had just dismissed them.

Cheerfully, Goku waved and headed for the door, his son following silently behind him. He clapped him on the shoulder as they walked away from the domed Gravity Room.

"That was fun," he said. Gohan moved away, tilted his shoulder down and dropped Goku's hand off. Goku frowned but lifted into the sky and turned in the direction of their mountain home as his son joined him in the air.

"Yeah," the teenager said sarcastically. Goku glanced at him from the side.

"So," he began. "You went by Krillin's?"

"So?" Gohan returned defensively. Goku sighed, frustrated by the open hostility.

"Well, did you have a good time?" Goku asked. Gohan shrugged. His father sighed.

"Would you drop the pissed off temper fit?" He asked suddenly, annoyance coloring his words as he stopped and hung mid air in front of his son. Gohan crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at his father.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said shortly. He blasted off in the direction of home, ignoring his father's shout. Hampered by the Block, Gohan was not fast enough to get away from his father and in mere seconds, Goku had caught his bicep and brought him around to face him.

"Would you stop doing that?" Goku asked, annoyance in his words and his face. Gohan took a deep breath and glared off to the side. "All I'm trying to do is to get to know you again, Gohan, you've changed so much and I—"

"Don't give me that bull," Gohan snapped. Goku's expression seemed to sag wearily. He eyed his son, bright love shining in the dark orbs.

"I love you, Gohan," he murmured. "You're so precious to me."

"I must not have been very 'precious' to you! You left, remember?" Gohan's heart twisted painfully within him. He could feel his eyes begin to fill suddenly and looked away in an effort to stop the pain building within him.

"You're wrong, Gohan," Goku whispered, reaching out and grasping the teenager's shoulders tightly. "I left because I hoped only to keep my family and friends safe from the evil that kept coming just to get at me; I would be devastated if something happened to you, Gohan."

Gohan's chest tightened and for the life of him he could not keep the moisture from his eyes nor the deep ache from his heart. He wanted to leave, to run away from the conversation and the way that his heart pounded within him, beating out a desperate plea for hope and the love that he was too angry to acknowledge. Goku pulled him into an embrace, his arms strong and tight around the teenager like when he was a child. Like it was when he believed his father was the most powerful thing in the universe…and wanted him and fought wars for him.

"I love you, son," Goku whispered softly into Gohan's ear. He reached up with his right hand and cupped the back of his head, weaving the black strands of hair between his fingers. "You are a big part of my world and I hate it that you're so mad at me. I know I make mistakes, but I do the best I can for you. I want you to have a world that is peaceful and stable where you and Goten can grow up and live happily. I love you, Gohan!"

Gohan buried his face in his father's chest, wanting desperately to let go of the hurt that was slowly killing him, but he knew that it would not make a difference. He was still here; he was still on his own—no matter what his father claimed. He was still so _angry._

"How could you leave me?" He whispered wretchedly, his face still tucked against his parent's chest. Goku's arms tightened around Gohan's body, and the teenager felt as if the man was trying to squeeze out the hurt and anger within his body.

"I only did what I thought was right, Gohan," he whispered.

_You're falling into this, Gohan!_ The teenager thought to himself. _You know you'll only get hurt!_ The growling within him was growing and threatening to erupt; the strong emotions radiating from one part of him to the other frightened him and made him feel vulnerable. Raggedly, he pulled in a breath and forced all of his emotions down, drowning them out with the anger that was a constant with in him.

"Let me go," he demanded, his voice rough and desperate.

"Please, son, try to see the truth in what I say," Goku whispered. Gohan shook his head against his father's chest and pushed away.

"Let go," Gohan said, his voice falling back to cold indifference. With a sigh, Goku dropped his arms and looked at the teenager.

"I love you, Gohan," he repeated. Gohan shook his head.

"No, I've heard it all before," he said bitterly, his insides quaking with unspent emotions. "I won't believe that anymore." He turned away, an expression of grief covering his face before he could recover.

Silently, Gohan lead the way to their house on the mountain. Once they reached home, Gohan walked to his room without any words to his mother, Bird, or Goten—who thankfully was too exhausted and hungry to argue. He sat under his window for hours until the house stilled and everyone was asleep. The starry sky above did nothing for his aching soul but give him a stronger feeling of loneliness. He clenched his finger nails into the flesh of his palms, trying to ease the horrible ache within, but the deafening pain remained. Swallowing back his hurt, the teenager tugged open his window and crept out, running away from his house and the frustrating pain associated with it. The sad part was that he realized he could never run far enough.

To Be Continued!

_Whooh! I can't honestly believe I have survived to past this chapter! I'm still totally thrilled with what I've got, but I've hit a slight snag that I am fighting through. No worries! I love this story-it has been way better than therapy and I will see it through to the very bitter end._

_November_


	18. Held So Long

Chapter Eighteen

"Held So Long"

-Linkin Park

_Thank you so much for the reviews!_

The moonlight above did nothing to comfort Gohan as he ran. He felt alone and hurt and even more weak than he felt before. He ran and ran until his lungs burned and every breath felt as if he had inhaled fire, but still he ran. His thoughts rolled, like waves in an ocean from one memory to another, never stopping.

He was four with a smile and a tail, safe in his father's arms as they flew to visit Master Roshi's Island, but that memory quickly became a nightmare as his 'Uncle' Raditz had appeared and yanked him from the safety of his father's arms.

Next was the memory of waking up to Piccolo. The year with Piccolo—especially the first six months—sucked. He was completely on his own, forced to provide for himself, without anyone to talk to. Later, however, he had found Piccolo, or rather, Piccolo had found him after he had escaped back to his home. Through the harsh, painful hours of training, Gohan had come to respect and admire the alien that had threatened to kill him with every other breath. Not to mention the beatings that the Namekjin could dish out. But hard on the heels of that memory was the one of Piccolo throwing himself before Gohan, protecting him from a deadly blast. Then his father had returned, saving Gohan from being stomped to death. Gohan shook his head and continued running, his heart thumping angrily against his ribcage, threatening to quit.

Then Gohan had determined to go to Planet Namek to wish Piccolo back to life. That had been an adventure of itself, never mind that Frieze and all of his ridiculous henchmen had shown up. Sheesh, the Genyu Force had been…well the Genyu Farce. But Gohan had almost been beaten to death. Goku had shown up and given him a Senzu bean, saving his life. And then the whole planet being destroyed…and his father disappearing. Gohan's heart clenched as he remembered the pain of waiting for his father to come home. He desperately wanted his father. Chichi had become militant in her beliefs that Gohan should focus more on his studies and less on fighting. Gohan's breathing was heavy and his head began to grow fuzzy as he remembered how badly he had wanted his father to come home.

When he had, however, another threat had blossomed. The Androids. A chill began somewhere around Gohan's chest at the way the heart virus had taken his father down. Goku had _screamed_ in agony, scaring the ten year old badly.

The battle of Cell was next, exploding against his mind in sharp, resonating waves of terror and grief. Goku had been _so sure_…but Gohan was still just a scared child. Cell had hurt him, had hurt his friends and family, and Gohan had arrogantly believed that he had become indestructible. He had _failed_. Cell had begun to swell, gleefully announcing that he would just blow up and take the earth along with him, but Goku had appeared before Gohan, his eyes a radiant green…

Gohan cried out and stumbled, his feet tangling up beneath him as he fell head first and tumbled down a small incline. Goku had spoken to him, but the words were jumbled in his thoughts as the screaming and raging within him swelled until they were too loud for Gohan to think. All that the teen could do was lay back, his lungs screaming for air, and watch as his worst memory played out within his mind, shredding him. His father had spoken…he could hear Krillin screaming…and Goku's eyes were _so bright_. Gohan cried out again and brought his hands up to cover his eyes, trying in vain to block the memories that haunted his sleep and chased after him during the daylight.

His father had disappeared, Cell with him. Goku had forfeited his own life to correct Gohan's mistake. Gohan had allowed Cell to take Goku. Gohan had _failed_. And then Goku had refused to be wished back to life, driving in the final nail into Gohan's self-inflicted coffin. He did not want to come back.

_I FAILED_! Gohan's mind screamed at him. The teen writhed on the ground, not caring that tears were streaming down his cheeks, mixing with the dirt and creating mud; or that there were scratches and cuts on every inch of bared flesh from the trees and brush that he had run through; or that there were twigs and grass in his hair. The air around him seemed too thick to breath, and yet Gohan's body struggled to draw in the needed oxygen, trying to cease the emotional torment that he was feeling. Blackness attacked him, threatening to draw him under and smother him, but still the teen fought.

Viciously, before the darkness closed him out, Gohan arched up and screamed, the sound ripping from his throat. His fists clenched tight, his nails biting into his palms creating little puddles of blood that ran between his fingers and dripped into the dirt, before the darkness closed in around him, blissfully sending the pain away as he lost consciousness.

DBZ

The next morning, there was a raging woman at the Son house. Goku sat at the breakfast table, staring at his now empty breakfast dish and listening as his wife huffed and hollered. Bird, the small thing that she was, had spent her first night in her new room after Goku had set up the new capsule, and at that moment, quietly washed dishes at the sink. Goten sat, his food gone, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he watched his mommy.

"I can't believe he left again!" Chichi fumed. Goku winced and sighed. When they had woken up that morning, Chichi had gone in to wake up their oldest son only to discover his bed slightly rumpled and his window wide open. Goku was frustrated more by the fact that he had _told_ Gohan not to leave. The kid had left fully knowing that he was not supposed to and that the next day was the first day of the 'reunion.' Although it was a sorta kinda reunion now. Ruefully, Goku considered what he would say when his son got home.

"After we _told_ him that he was not to go out without you!" Chichi fumed.

In his pocket, jabbing him in the thigh was the radar to Gohan's wrist band, and after breakfast, Goku had every intention to hunt him down and drag him back—kicking and screaming if that was the case. The Saiyajin felt as if he had been pretty understanding up until that point, and now he just felt as if he were being run over by a bratty teenager. Perhaps Vegeta was right; maybe Gohan just needed…

Goten crawled down from his chair and crept around to tug on Goku's pant leg. With a smile, Goku hoisted the little boy up and held him against his chest. Goten had been fun to be around since Goku had returned. The little boy was smart but had Goku's features down to his easy-going, fearless attitude. The child pushed backwards until he could look Goku in the eye, his little face serious.

"Go'an?" He asked simply. When he had woken up to his big brother being gone again, Goten had been very upset. Goku had had to hold the toddler for an hour before his sniffles had stopped and he had agreed to eat. Bird had been quiet, not saying anything as she had picked at her food.

"Gohan's not here yet, but don't worry, Daddy is going to go find him in a little while," Goku murmured, soothing the little boy until he sighed and relaxed against his father's chest. Goku raised his eyes and glanced at Chichi, who stood beside the window, looking out. Her shoulders were still stiff, but they lacked the angry edge that had been present for the better part of the morning.

"Chichi? You okay?" Goku asked quietly. The dark haired woman who Gohan looked so much like turned and approached the kitchen table, yanked out a chair, and sat down across from Goku. Her eyes were troubled.

"Goku, what are we going to do?" She asked. Goku blinked.

"I've lost count of how many times he has left his room in the middle of the night," she said. "I'm just so tired of him acting this way. What are we going to do?" Her eyes were dark pools of liquid chocolate that melted against Goku. The Saiyajin swallow hard.

"I…don't know," he answered. Chichi sighed, not pleased with his response.

"Well, we're going to have to figure out what we are going to do before you go after him." Goku tilted his head to the side.

"Do?' He asked, almost afraid of the answer. "What do you mean 'do'?"

"Well, obviously we are going to have to enforce some kind of consequence for this, Goku," she said quietly. She met his eyes, understanding the reservations there. She sighed and looked away. "He has to do as he's told, Goku, doesn't he? Is it too harsh of us to expect him to mind?"

"No, I don't think so normally, but Chichi he has had it rough lately, you know? I mean, he was hurting himself not too long ago, and now he does not have that option and every one knows what he was doing; he has to be pretty upset still. Besides that, he has a woman after him," Goku said. _And I tried the strict approach already_, Goku thought to himself ruefully. Chichi did not know what had happened a few days ago, and Goku would rather keep it that way, but he was feeling more and more that it was a mistake. Although he knew that for some reason, his son was pushing his reaction, the idea of 'disciplining' a teenager who had defeated Cell and fought with him side by side left a nasty taste in his mouth. He had tried to be firm, but maybe he should have been backing off and letting the boy work it out on his own; after all, Gohan had been trained in combat since he was barely older than Goten. Still, he understood his wife's point and agreed.

_So much for those books on children_, Goku thought to himself, shaking his head with a thin smile.

"But he's fifteen, Goku! We are his _parents_, for crying out loud!" Chichi fumed, her nostrils flaring in agitation.

_**Goku**_, an ethereal voice said to the whole kitchen. Goten sat up straight and swung his head from side to side, curious where the disembodied voice was coming from. Bird stilled where she stood and glanced at Goku, confused.

"Dende?" Goku asked aloud, a comical expression on his face.

_**Yes. Goku, Gohan is hurt and needs you; Piccolo is with him right now, but he has asked me to contact you and ask you to come quickly**_**. **Goku stood up and set Goten on the table beside his mother.

"Hurt?" Chichi asked, panic seeping into her voice.

"Thanks, Dende. Chichi, I'll be back in a while and we will talk about this later, okay? I'm going to get him and bring him home now." Bird had turned around and watched him as he leaned down and kissed his wife on the cheek and ruffle his son's black hair. He glanced up at Bird and gently smiled, offering the girl a wink before he turned and strode out of the door.

Goku's foot didn't even hit the step as he went through the door; he was airborne as he left the house. Once in the air, he searched for Piccolo's ki signature and headed in his direction. It took a few minutes to get there, but as he landed, Goku glanced at the Namekjin and noted the grim look on his face.

"Piccolo?" His gaze drifted down farther and caught sight of Gohan lying at the man's feet. Gohan was dirty, with sticks and dirt clinging to his skin and hair, mixed with some blood that had leaked from small cuts on his face and arms. Goku kneeled down beside him, frowning. "What happened?"

"I followed him last night," Piccolo said shortly. "He left out his window and then he just started to run until he tripped and fell down here." Goku glanced around them and noticed that they were at the bottom of a steep incline, the trail that Gohan's body had made as it fell down obvious with the track of clear dirt devoid of branches and weeds.

"Goku, I was not going to say anything, but this can't go on; you have to do something to get him to talk to you," the Namekjin said, his voice a low growl. Goku reached out and brushed away some of the dirt on the teens clothes before he lifted his son's hand. Both of his hands were covered in blood that had leaked from fingernail-sized indents in his palms. Sitting back, the Saiyajin sighed.

"I know, Piccolo. I tried talking to him last night and it obviously did not go well." Gently, Goku shook the teen's shoulder. "Gohan, wake up. Come on, son, wake up."

"Goku," Piccolo said, capturing the other's attention. "Before he passed out last night, Gohan screamed; he sounded as if he were being cut into pieces. I know what you're saying about talking to him, I overheard you last night, but the next time you talk to him, do not back down. Keep pushing him until he talks to you."

Goku lifted the unconscious teen up and slid his left arm behind his back, lifting his knees with the other before he stood and faced Piccolo.

"Goku, you're going to loose him if you don't wake him up and shake him up," Piccolo said. "And it has to be you." Goku nodded his head and looked down at Gohan's face where it had rested against Goku's chest; he thought that was what he had tried to do the other day with the switch…

"I don't want to hurt him, Piccolo," Goku whispered, feeling helpless and unsure of the right path. Piccolo looked off into the distance a moment before he spoke again.

"Has Gohan ever mentioned the training he went through when he was with me?" the Namekjin asked. Goku looked down at the teen in his arms and shook his head.

"No," he admitted quietly, glancing back up at Piccolo. The taller man narrowed his eyes at the horizon and continued.

"During that year that I had Gohan, there was one point where I had thrown him into a hill and broke his arm, but he did not tell me; I probably would not have listened or cared at the time anyway, but the next day, when we were sparring again, I grabbed his arm and he screamed." Piccolo paused and looked back at Goku, his eyes dark. "I was surprised because you know how fast you Saiyajin's heal, and normally he would have been fine by the next day; a bit sore, but fine. I forced him to show me his arm and discovered that it had been broken and had healed wrong."

Goku winced and looked down at his sleeping child, aching for the pain that his son had had to endure. Gohan had rarely spoken about his time with Piccolo, but then again, Goku had not really asked.

"I told him that we would have to break it again and the kid flipped out, telling me that I was not going to _touch_ his arm and a bunch of other stuff that was not appropriate for a five year old to say, and ended with my backhanding him." Goku raised an eyebrow at the Namekjin as the man shifted and frowned, seeing the memories play out in his mind. "I pinned him to the ground and forcefully broke his arm again." Piccolo raised his eyes to Goku's again.

"What I'm saying is that when you died, Goku, you broke him and he didn't heal right. Now, four years later, it's still not correctly set, so it still hurts and he can't heal; you need to break him again." Goku gulped and stared at his son's pale face.

"I don't know how," the Saiyajin admitted, feeling upset and tired. _You need to break him again_. How in the world was he supposed to 'break' his son…again? He did not even know that he had done it the first time! Goku curled his arms and pulled the teen closer to his chest protectively. "I'm going to get him home, Piccolo, you are more than welcome to come early to the reunion if you'd like; I know Gohan would appreciate the company once he wakes up."

Without another word, the warrior lifted into the sky and headed back to his home. After a few more moments, Piccolo's ki flared and the Namekjin followed after him.

DBZ

That evening, Goku sat beside Gohan's bed. The teen was still asleep, in fact, he had never gained consciousness since Goku had brought him home. The moonlight that filtered in through his windows cast unusual shadows across the bed and the demi-Saiyajin under the covers. His face looked as if there were several dark bruises that covered his face due to the shadows, and the vision disturbed the Saiyajin. He reached out and brushed his fingers against Gohan's brow as a frown crossed the teen's face again. Goku sat forward, prepared for another nightmare. The whole day, just after Goku had bathed and redressed the teen, had been spent fighting off one nightmare after another, but it had been a while since the last nightmare. Chichi had started out beside him, but when Gohan had accidentally knocked her backwards onto the floor, Goku had suggested that she take Goten and Bird and go to Bulma's. Chichi had argued of course, but when the teen had begun to scream, Chichi could not stay and leave Goten in that, so they left. She had called a couple of hours later and asked if Goku thought it was wise to still have the reunion at their house. Goku had told her not to worry about it that Gohan would be up and awake by then and had quickly gotten off of the phone.

Gohan's face crumbled, pulling on Goku's heartstrings as a moan breathed out of Gohan's lungs. Piccolo's ki was strong and rumbling from his place on the roof, but it pulsed brighter as soon as Gohan began to thrash and cry out, almost smacking Goku in the eye before the man could get his arms pinned.

"No!" Gohan cried as his father pinned first one arm and then the other to his sides on the bed. His back arched up off of the bed while his legs thrashed. Piccolo was there in a second, pinning the teen's legs to the bed, a grim expression on his face.

"This is the fifth nightmare since you put him to bed, Goku," Piccolo growled. "He normally wakes up after the first and then doesn't go back to sleep." Goku glanced over at the tall Namekjin, but did not answer as another scream ripped from his son's throat and his arms and legs jerked against his two captors.

"Please, Daddy…" Gohan moaned. Even with his eyes closed, tears began to leak and stream down his cheeks. He tossed his head and sobbed, but never woke. "Don't leave me…" A lump stuck in Goku's throat and moister gathered in his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Gohan, who had stilled his thrashing enough to let him go. Piccolo sighed and leaned against the wall at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest, his head bowed slightly.

"I'm not leaving, Gohan, I'm right here and I'm not leaving." Gently, he brushed his hand along the teen's brow and brushed back his bangs before he moved his hand to cup Gohan's cheek. The teen's sleeping face crumbled and his head rolled to the side, pressing firmly against Goku's rough palm.

"Piccolo, I didn't mean this," Goku whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Tears gathered in his eyes as more tears escaped from beneath Gohan's long black eyelashes and slipped into Goku's hand.

"Whether you meant it or not is not the problem, Goku," he murmured. "The problem is: are you going to be able to stop this? Something is coming, Goku, you can feel it as well as I. You know that those android monkeys are going to stop at nothing to get to him." Piccolo closed his eyes and frowned.

"They'll stop with me," Goku said firmly. "They can't have my son."

DBZ

Even breathing beside Gohan slowly roused him from sleep. He took a deep breath, surprised that his body was sore and stiff, and even more surprised that he was in a bed, with a warm body behind him. Judging from the ki that whispered against him, it was his father. Slowly, Gohan blinked his eyes, rolling them beneath his eyelids to banish what sleep remained in them before he tried to open them fully. He was on his right side, facing the wall that was right beside his bed…in his room. He closed his eyes again, unsure how he got back and annoyed that his eyelids would not open all of the way.

_Maybe I just can't remember that Dad came and found me and beat me into unconsciousness because I left the house after he told me not to_, the teen thought. He reached up and rubbed his eyes, trying to fight through the confusion in his brain. His eyes felt like they were infected because of how much gunk was on them, sealing his right one almost closed. With a groan, Gohan sat up, rolling his shoulders as he clenched and unclenched his eyes, trying to dislodge the goo that stuck them together.

"Gohan?" a gruff voice whispered from the foot of the bed. "You okay?"

"Piccolo?" he asked. He tried to crack his eyes open, but the stuff was still gluing his eyelashes together. "Piccolo, I need to rinse my eyes out, they're stuck together." Blindly, he reached out toward the end of the bed, searching for the man. A bigger hand captured his and gently tugged him forward as Gohan crawled toward him, over the comforter. He moved his left hand across the bed before him until he moved it off the bed, nearly falling face first onto the floor. Piccolo grabbed him by his upper arms and lifted him off of the bed, settling him on his feet.

Gohan frowned as his legs trembled beneath him, threatening not to hold his weight. Piccolo gripped Gohan's right arm and steadied him as Gohan moved from the room.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Gohan demanded gruffly. Piccolo flipped on the light in the bathroom and released Gohan as the teen stepped into the room, but just as soon as Gohan lost the added support, his knees wobbled and sent him to the floor. He clawed at the bathroom counter, barely keeping his head from smacking into the floor as Piccolo grabbed his arms again.

"I've got him," another voice said. Gohan felt extra hands grab him under the arms and lift him to his feet. An arm looped under his arms and behind his back, supporting his weight. His father turned on the water with his free hand before he pulled his arm out from behind Gohan and instead, grabbed him from behind with an arm around his waist.

"Dad?" Gohan asked. The arm around him tightened in reassurance.

"Yeah, it's me," Goku answered softly. Gohan swallowed and leaned forward slightly, using his hands to cup water and bring it up to his eyes. After a couple of rinses, Gohan was able to open his eyes; he also felt stronger and less wobbly. He straightened and blinked his eyes a couple of times, noticing Piccolo leaning against the door frame, watching him, while his father stood behind him, his right arm looped around Gohan's middle, his left hand resting gently against Gohan's left shoulder blade. Uncomfortable, Gohan shifted away slightly wanting to put distance between them. Immediately, Goku released him.

"I'm okay now," the teen whispered. Goku frowned and looked away, confusing the teen. "I'm going to take a shower." Goku studied him in the mirror a moment before he nodded his head and brushed his right hand across Gohan's back.

"Call if you need anything," Goku said as he left the tiny bathroom. Before he shut the door, he caught Gohan's eyes. "The reunion is today, remember?" Surprised, Gohan nodded, alarmed that he had missed an entire day somewhere. Goku backed out and closed the door, leaving Gohan to himself. The dark haired teen groaned and sat on the closed toilet lid, dropping his head into his hands and trying to remember the last twenty-four hours. When nothing came to him, he sighed and stood carefully, still feeling slightly weak. He stripped out of his undershirt and shorts and stepped into the shower, allowing the steamy water to beat down on him.

After a few moments, Gohan flipped off the water and stepped out. He tossed a towel over his head and wrapped another around his waist. While he dried his thick hair, vague memories began to leak into his recovered brain. A montage of nightmares mixed with comforting words confused him and made the wall that blocked his emotions tremble and howl. He took a shuddering breath and pushed at both the memory and the deep desire it triggered as he opened the door to the bathroom. His feet hardly made a sound as he padded to his room with the towel still wrapped around his waist. His room was blissfully empty as the demi-Saiyajin entered, the stark blue light of early morning tinting the room. He dressed in the semi-darkness, jumping at a knock on his bedroom door.

"Gohan, are you dressed?" Goku's voice sounded hollow through the heavy wood door. "Come to the kitchen when you're decent; we need to talk." Gohan stilled at that, and glanced at the closed door, his eyes narrowed. He finished tying the cord that laced his white boot and stood up, looking at himself in the mirror. The gi he wore was one that he had designed and sewn himself. It was a deep blue, mirrored after Piccolo's gi, but with a slight variation with white Saiyajin style boots instead of the little brown booties that he had worn for years. A lightweight long sleeved undershirt completed the outfit. He sighed and reached for the red wrist weights and slipped them over his hands and down around his wrists. The boots also had a heavy weight in each, while the red sash around his waist was weighted as well.

He stood before his mirror for a moment, lost in thought—seemed to be happening a lot to him lately. He had designed the gi to be his own, not Piccolo's, not his father's. And he looked good, too. Gohan cracked a smile and looked at himself in the mirror again; he hardly recognized himself. At some point, his cheeks had slimmed, loosing whatever baby fat had remained after the Cell Games. Still round, but without the babyish quality. He was taller, too. Still not as tall as his father, but he was taller than he was four years ago. The teen bit his lip and doubled over, fighting the harsh burning that had begun in his chest. His heart thundered and twisted within him, making it hard to breathe. He dropped to his knees, his arms winding around his waist in a familiar show of self-comfort as the howling within him grew louder. Tears flooded his eyes, desperate to escape and drip down his cheeks, but the teen closed them and dropped his chin against his chest.

_Stop_, he ordered himself. _No more tears; no more crying. It's over and done with and nothing will change it. You failed and now you have to live with the consequences_.

He took a few calming breaths, sealing the howling emotions away, knowing that at some point, his walls would fall and he would loose, like Piccolo said, but he was determined to soldier on anyways. He stilled the trembling that had begun in his hands and straightened, lifted his chin stubbornly and glared into the mirror.

_Now, to the kitchen we go_, he thought to himself as he turned and strode to the door. With his hand on the door, Gohan tugged it open and stepped through, a thought that was not quite a thought, more like a mental breath whispered against him as he stepped through the door.

_I wish I was dead_.

_So sorry I took so long! I have returned to school and between school and my family I have been just slightly drowning. No worries…I haven't drowned yet…and I promise I will get the rest of this story out; it just might take me a while! Thank you all to everyone who has reviewed/put me on your watch list! I truly enjoy writing this story and can't let it go…I'm just happy that you guys like it, too!_


	19. To Let Go Of The Pain

Chapter Nineteen

"To Let Go Of The Pain"

-Linkin Park

_Thank you to my reviewers! Y'all are great!_

_Warning for a fight scene in this one!_

Goku stood, looking out at the green world beyond his kitchen window, still struggling with what he would say to his teenage son. Piccolo had stepped outside, muttering something about not wanting to be there for the conversation, but Goku could feel him up on the domed roof, not far away and definitely within his hearing range.

In a few hours, the entire Z gang, from Master Roshi up to Vegeta and Bulma, would congregate at the Son residence for the annual reunion, but Goku's oldest son still posed a problem. Piccolo's earlier words still reverberated in Goku's mind, but he was still not sure what to do about it. To make matters worse, Vegeta's comments kept ringing in his mind.

_He'll hate you for not stepping up and acting like a proper father_… _Perhaps that is what he's after…____You need to break him again…_

Goku sighed and crossed his arms, wondering if Goten would be so difficult when he became a teenager. If so, maybe staying in Otherworld was an option. The Saiyajin frowned at his thoughts, a hint of guilt spreading across his chest. He did _not_ mean that! He narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth, the flesh over his jaw rippling with the action. These were _his_ boys, and damn it, he would not let them down! Behind him, he felt Gohan move down the hall toward him. Resolute, Goku turned, ready to face one of the toughest fights he had ever had to fight as his son entered the room.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Gohan asked, his face closed and his voice tinted with indifference. Goku looked him up and down and noted the dark blue gi that he wore, a pang going off in his heart that the child did not wear his own orange gi. But he brushed it to the side and raised his chin.

"Gohan, you left the other night after I told you not to," Goku began, his voice quiet. Gohan narrowed his eyes at his father, trying to back down the irate emotions from rising to the surface. "Why?"

"I needed some fresh air," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. Goku tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on the teen.

"And opening your window or going up on the roof wasn't an option?" Gohan shrugged again, giving Goku the sudden urge to slap him senseless.

_Sheesh, maybe Vegeta was right; this shoulder shrugging thing is annoying!_ He thought to himself.

"Gohan, you need to understand that I am you parent and have full rights to tell you what to do," Goku said. Gohan's shoulders stiffened and his chin tilted higher into the air in fury.

"Yeah, I kinda picked up on that the other day," he growled, his eyes flickering angrily, revealing a raw emotion, but Goku ignored it and continued.

"Your mother, Goten, and Bird all went to Capsule Corp. yesterday after I got back with you, but they and everyone else will be here in a few hours." He paused and studied the stubborn look in his son's black eyes. "We need to be done with this conversation before everyone else gets here, but I am not just going to drop this again."

"I don't know what you're talking about, and I seriously don't care," Gohan snapped, turning toward the door. Goku was there in an instant, blocking him, his dark eyes angry.

"You have to stop this, Gohan!" he said, his voice rose for the first time. "You can't keep pushing, son, or it will end badly for you." Gohan studied him for a moment, unsure of what to make of that statement. Above them, Gohan could feel his mentor's strong energy radiating back to him, and with a blush of embarrassment, he knew that the Namekjin could hear everything that was being said.

"I'm not doing anything," Gohan said, irritated at the line of conversation. "I just want to be left alone!"

"Gohan, you're fifteen years old; you're not an adult yet, and until then, you're stuck with us. It would make it all so much easier if you would just talk to me and tell me what has gotten you so ticked off." Gohan shook his head, trying to force away the confusing emotions in his heart and not loose control of his temper or the situation—although he did not really feel as if he were the one in control of the situation anyway.

"Fine, I'm still yours to control; I've got that," Gohan said as he turned to walk back down the hallway, his arms beginning to show the internal battle as they started trembling. Goku's heavy hand landed on his shoulder and spun him back around, surprising the teen, and almost knocking him over. Goku's eyes were deep black and furious.

"That is what I'm talking about, Gohan! You talk to me and everyone else as if you have the right to be rude; you don't!" Gohan shrugged away from his father's hands and glared, anger boiling within him, but before he could speak, the door was wrenched open and Chichi rushed in.

"Gohan! You're awake!" She made to run to her son's side, but Goku raised his arm in front on her, stilling her movement, and silencing her protest, his black eyes still pinned on Gohan.

"Gohan was just going back to his room," Goku said, his voice low. He glanced behind him out of the corner of his eyes and noticed that Vegeta filled the doorway, his black eyes delighted at what they had walked in on. Goku looked back at Gohan. "Everyone is coming early, it seems, so we will continue this discussion later."

Gohan's face tinted red with embarrassment as he noticed the pleased expression on the Saiyajin Prince's face. He glared at his father, clenching his teeth together. He did not move, but lowered his chin and hunched his shoulders into a defensive position. Goku's eyes snapped and became almost murderous.

"Go back to you room," he whispered. His tone was hard and held the most fatal warning Gohan had ever heard, but the teen still stood there, rage filling his blood and showing through his eyes. Beside his father, Chichi gasped, her expression shocked that her son stood, ignoring Goku's direct order (or veiled threat, more like). Movement behind Vegeta caught Gohan's attention, and when he glanced that way, he noted that his former sensei had descended from the roof and stood, his shoulders broad, his arms crossed, and a hard expression on his face. The message was loud and obvious: you don't stand a chance, so back off.

With rage pumping through his veins, the teen glanced from one adult to the other. Piccolo's face was void of any emotion, while Vegeta's was obviously hoping Gohan would keep it up so that he would have a good, justifiable reason to beat the tar out of him. Goku's face was still, but the young warrior could see that beneath the anger on the outside, he was pleading with Gohan to simply comply. His mother, however, looked as if her heart were breaking. A tinge of guilt drove itself through Gohan's heart at his mother's distressed expression.

Gohan closed his eyes and took a deep breath before carefully blowing it out. He relaxed his stance some and looked at the floor, his father's shoes the nearest the thing in his line of sight.

"Gohan," Goku said quietly. The teen flicked his eyes upwards, looking through his black eyelashes at his father.

"Go."

The order still grated on his nerves, but not wanting to fight _everyone_, he decided it would be in his best interest to drop it for now and head back to his room. He rolled his eyes and spun on his heel, slowly walking back to his room where he shut the door with a click.

Goku took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, troubled by the open hostility in his son's expression.

"Do you believe me now, Kakarot?" Vegeta asked, his voice high and mocking. Goku narrowed his eyes and turned around, pinning the Saiyajin Prince in a deadly look.

"I can take care of my son, Vegeta," he snapped as he walked out of the house. Piccolo moved away from the doorway and eased backwards until he was closer to the side of the house before he leapt easily into the air and settled, once again, on the roof.

DBZ

Hours later, the party was in full swing outside while Gohan paced back and forth in his bedroom. He was restless, his mind abuzz with a dangerous need as he slumped into his desk chair and slammed his head against the hard wood. He could think of a thousand other things that he would rather be doing at that moment, but instead of doing them, he was confined to his room with the threat of mass murder; him being the only victim. Annoyed, the teen rose and flung himself down on his bed, his chest prickling uncomfortably. The cries within him were quiet for the moment, but that was due to the rage that still poured through his veins.

He lay back for a few moments and stared up at the ceiling, but jumped up and began to pace again. With a growl deep in his chest, Gohan hurled his pillow against the wall. _What right does he have? He was __**dead**__ for four years! He should not be able to come back and act like a parent again!_ Fuming, Gohan strode back and forth, his boots smacking soundly against the hardwood.

He paused before the window, staring out at the world beyond. _I need to get away from here_, he thought. _I don't want to be anywhere near him right now; I just want time to think._ But Goku had informed him in no uncertain terms that for him to leave _once_ after being told not to might be forgivable, but to do it _again_ would result in instant and painful death. Gohan gripped his head with his hands, curling his fingers into the dark locks around his face as he looked out the window.

He just could not understand why he was afraid, or, for that matter, what he was afraid of! The man could not _possibly _hurt him any more than he was already. On the other hand, for him to disobey at the moment meant that every one of his family's friends would be witness to the ass kicking that would surely result if he were caught. He sighed and angrily spun around, trudging to the opposite side of the room again. As he passed, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror on the closet door and paused.

The boy in the mirror was the same kid that he had seen in the mirror all of his life, but this time, there was something different. Gohan stepped closer and stared at himself, feeling at the edge of something profound. Back all those year ago, during the Cell Games, Gohan doubted his father when the man proclaimed that he, Son Gohan, ten year old—well, eleven after the year in the chamber—energy genius that he was, would be the one to finish off Cell. As a trusting child, Gohan had blindly allowed himself to believe that just because his father said it was so, that it was. But the cold truth had slapped them all and Gohan had paid for it; Goku had paid for it with his life to fix what Gohan had screwed up.

The teen stood there, slightly alarmed that he had never understood this before, feeling lost. At eleven, he did not have the courage—even though he did not want to fight Cell—to tell his father 'no.' Gohan was still too immature, and too frightened to go up against such a monstrosity, but he had remained confident in his father and had done as he was told.

Some good had come out of it, Gohan supposed; after all, he was the strongest being on the planet in regards to raw energy. But what else had come of it? Gohan had nearly died, had almost allowed Cell to destroy _everything_ he loved, and had fallen apart as his father forfeited his life for the earth. Afterward, on the Lookout, Gohan had felt hopeful at the suggestion to use Namek's Dragonballs to wish Goku back to life, but that had been quickly crushed. Goten remained fatherless, Chichi remained husbandless, and Gohan was left to carry the burden.

Perhaps at eleven Gohan was too young, but he was not anymore.

The teen clenched his fists, anger racing through his veins as he stared at what was left of himself in the mirror. With a low growl deep in his throat, Gohan swung forward and slammed his right fist into the mirror, the burst of shattering glass distinct and sharp in his ear. Slivers of crystalline glass tinkled as it crashed into the floor, cascading around him in an instant of solid chaos before everything was still again, but for the thumping of his battered heart. Above him, Gohan felt his mentor and friend brush against him, curious at the sound of breaking glass.

_**I'm fine**_**, **he snapped. Piccolo withdrew, but said nothing in reply. Slowly, Gohan straightened, relished the sting in his fist, and moved toward the door. Once past his door, he strode down the hall and past the newly repaired picture window to the front door.

Most of the guests and his family would be around on the side of the house, through the kitchen doorway, but Gohan was silent anyways, not particularly wanting to draw attention on himself as he walked into the night. An ominous trail of blood followed after the teen as the crimson liquid seeped from the jagged lacerations on his hand, but Gohan did not notice or care.

"Fleeing again, Saiyajin Brat?" A cruel voice chuckled out of the darkness. Gohan stopped walking, but did not glance toward the voice as Vegeta stepped out of the darkness. The man had his arms crossed over his chest, but his customary smirk was not in place as he stepped closer to the boy. "Is that what you do, Brat? Run away when things get tough?"

Gohan's heartbeat picked up, thudding against his ribcage as the Prince moved closer. He stopped directly before Gohan, and even though they were nearly the same height, Gohan felt a tendril of dread coil into his stomach. Vegeta's piercing gaze sharply scrutinized the teen, pausing on the blood that still dripped from the hand at his side. Slowly, Vegeta raised his eyes back to Gohan's, a slow smirk growing on the arrogant Prince's face.

"I see you have not changed," he whispered, his tone becoming wicked. "Still screwing up and letting Daddy pick up after you."

With a feral shriek, Gohan launched himself at the man, not caring that this was the reaction that the Saiyajin had been pushing for, or the fact that the man was ready for him. Vegeta side stepped and slammed his knee deep into Gohan's stomach, knocking him to his knees, his breath gone. Vegeta fisted his hand into the hair at the back of Gohan's head and yanked the teen up by it before he slammed the kid against the nearest tree. Gohan moaned and slumped to the ground briefly before he shot to his feet and spun, furious. Vegeta was there, waiting for him, and caught the fist that Gohan had hurled at his face; he jerked on it and tugged Gohan off balance before he released him, letting the teen fall on his rear.

Livid, Gohan made to jump up again.

"Don't move, Kiddo," Vegeta said quietly. The tone caught Gohan off guard, and when he looked up, he realized that his father stood directly behind Vegeta's left shoulder, a grim look on his face. Piccolo stood off to the side, his arms still crossed and his face still impassive as he closely watched Gohan. His mother stood back with the others, a vision of raw horror on her face.

Gohan's shoulders heaved as he gasped for air, but he quickly scrambled to his feet, feeling threatened as he sat on the ground. Goku's face was pained as he looked at Gohan, but the teen stubbornly raised his chin, arrogantly challenging the man to speak. The memory of the last time he had challenged his father out right entered his thoughts, but he shoved it away, intent on seeing this through to the end.

"What are you doing out here?" Goku asked quietly. Gohan narrowed his eyes at his father, but remained silent. Goku sighed and moved past Vegeta to stand directly in front of Gohan, who had to look up to keep the eye contact. "Gohan, I'm not going to play any games right now. What were you doing out here?"

"I felt like taking a walk," Gohan replied. Goku looked furious, but remained still.

"I told you to stay inside," he said softly. Gohan tensed.

"I don't care," Gohan whispered. Goku's eyes widened momentarily at the outright disregard of the reply.

"Damn it, son, go inside!" Goku shouted; his eyebrows pulled low over his ebony eyes. Gohan slowly backed away, his expression angry.

"No," he snarled. "I'm not doing what you tell me to anymore." An almost perfect collective gasp went up from the gathering of friends that encircled them, and if the situation had not been so tense, Gohan would have laughed.

"You decided that it was 'best' that you stay in Otherworld, even though you knew Mom would need you. Even though I still needed you, you chose to do what was 'best,'" he accused, his voice low and sharp. "I'm choosing what's best for me, now."

"What's that, Gohan?" Goku demanded, stepping forward, following the demi-Saiyajin. "Ignoring the fact that you have family and friends that just want to help you? Not caring that you have these people who just want to see you happy again?" Gohan shook his head angrily.

"I'm not letting you rule my existence anymore!" He shouted. "The last time I did, it didn't turn out too great, remember?" Goku clenched his teeth and stared at Gohan, devastated that his son was falling so far away from him.

"I have always done whatever I thought was best, Gohan! Can't you see that?" Goku gripped his right hand into a tight fist as he stared down the angry teen before him. His Gohan, the happy little boy who wanted to take rides on Nimbus and be tossed into the air, seemed almost none existent in the hard face of the child before him.

_He's not really a child anymore_, Goku corrected himself.

"You've always done what you thought was best for _you_!" he screamed back at his father. Goku's eyes took on the appearance of dark flint, his eyebrows hunching down low over his eyes. Gohan, his entire frame trembling, stood his ground and refused to budge. In irritation, he reached over to fiddle with the cold metal contraption that encased his left wrist; faint traces of blood smeared the smooth surface as his right hand fell away. Goku pursed his lips together and watched his son, an idea settling into his thoughts, causing his heart to beat hard against his rib cage. He closed his eyes for a second and then opened them again, his gaze on Bulma.

"Bulma," he called. "I need you guys to do me a favor." Goku ignored the snort of disgust that issued from his disgruntled son and watched as Bulma glanced to either side of herself before she nodded her head.

"Okay," she said, the apprehension evident in her voice. Next to her, Chichi looked as if she would burst into tears at any moment, while Goten already had tears streaming down his round cheeks. Goten hung onto his mother's legs, while Trunks forcefully clung to his father's.

"Unlock the Energy Block, please," Goku called. He refused to look at his son, but he heard the boy's gasp as well as the shout of surprise from his wife. Master Roshi stood back, his sunglasses hiding his eyes and thus his thoughts, while Yamcha and Tien looked at each other in disbelief. Krillin stood beside Eighteen, their young daughter clutched tightly in Eighteen's arms, while the little girl silently cried, huge tear drops that dripped onto her mother's arm. Her large, expressive eyes were trained directly on Gohan's anger filled face.

Beside Chichi, her face still, stood Bird. Her own blue eyes seemed hurt and upset, but it was hard to tell.

Piccolo stood back, closer to the house, his arms firmly crossed, the nails of his right hand digging into the flesh on his arm. He looked as if he could kill and skin the next creature that came too close, but he remained where he was; he understood that this particular battle could only be won or lost by Son Goku.

"But, Goku, are you sure that's a good idea?" Bulma's voice was raised and high. Goku had given the remote to her for safe keeping before the mini battle with Vegeta earlier in the day. Vegeta moved closer to her, his eyes sharp and directed at Goku's. The look on his face was an obvious 'What in hell are you doing?'

"Yes, Bulma," Goku answered, his voice soft and calm. "After you disarm it, would you all please move closer to the house?" Bulma opened her mouth in response, but Vegeta reached up and touched her gently on the shoulder, ending her argument before it could even begin. Goku watched her as she turned to lock eyes with her mate and then with a shocked Chichi. As she turned back and caught Goku's eyes, she tugged the remote for the Energy Block out of the bag in her hand and pointed it at Gohan. It was obvious she took a deep breath before she mashed the button on the remote that would release Gohan's energy.

Immediately, Goku could feel the vast well of power that was his son's birthright burble forth and spill into the area around them. He turned his attention back to his son, resolute, and noted the look of shock that he knew would be on his son's face. The momentary look of innocence on his teenager's face did nothing to temper Goku's decision, however. He growled low in his throat and drifted into the air, leaving his son on the ground as bands of gold erupted against his skin and raced in white hot strips into his hair. His black eyes flickered to a teal color as the ascended Saiyajin rushed into his body, filling him with the familiar burn of electricity and heightened awareness. Slowly, he lowered his now angry gaze and caught his son in a look. Gohan's face stilled, but the shock still showed through his round, expressive eyes.

Gohan's heart hammered in his chest, racing along with a deep fear as well as the intense anger that he felt. Goku hung before him, fully ascended and daring him with his unearthly eyes, but Gohan stood still. The rush of energy that slammed into him when Bulma turned off the Block was alarming. As if his energy had missed him, it rushed fast and hard straight into his body, greeting him and filling him with warmth.

But however warm his energy made him, he still felt frozen as he stared up at his father. The man had been alive all of a few weeks and already Gohan wanted nothing more than to send him back to hell or heaven—whichever the man preferred. The bare flesh on his arms and upper chest dimpled easily with goose bumps that had nothing to do with a chill in the evening air, and everything to do with the otherworldly sense of déjà vu.

Just as it had been in the Chamber of Time and Space, Gohan stood, angrily staring down his father who hung before him in the air. His heart pounded out an uneasy rhythm and his legs trembled with dread, but he firmly ignored it. His hands were pulled up defensively in front of him, but the shake that had begun in his legs quickly moved into his hands. He pursed his lips and fisted his hands tightly. His mind was quiet for once, and though it surprised him, Piccolo remained silent.

This time, Gohan stared into his father's face and noted the hidden rage that lurked just below the surface. Goku was not trying to help him ascend to Super Saiyan as he was in the Chamber; this time, Gohan was being challenged out right. This was more than just a fight, though; this was a battle that had been brewing for four years. This was a deeply psychological event that would determine more than just whether or not his father could beat him: this was a challenge that could possibly end with a death.

"Gohan," Goku called. Gohan snapped out of his thoughts and latched onto Goku's frightening green eyes once more. "This has to stop now. We don't have to do this; you could just turn around and go back into you room now."

Gohan took a deep breath and blew it out through his lips, his muscular body still trembling as if a mini earthquake were rattling the ground directly below where he stood. Anger spiked up his spine to tingle at the nape of his neck, effectively keeping the fear at bay as he straightened and faced his father full on. Goku seemed to stiffen.

"Go to hell," Gohan whispered just loud enough to be heard by his father. Goku's jaw muscle twitched at the harsh words, but he remained in the air with his posture fully erect.

Without preamble or any warning whatsoever, Gohan jerked the unused portion of his energy and yanked hard on it, a faint uncomfortable feeling his first hint as his energy raced to obey before the earth began to shudder. Gohan shifted his feet to shoulders width and squared his shoulders again before he glared up at his father with matching teal eyes, daring the older man to react.

Goku's eyes narrowed slightly, an unfamiliar look on his face before he allowed the rage to take over. Below him, the son whom he had fought so hard to protect and train stared at him with a challenge that Goku was not entirely sure he could answer. Gohan challenged him to physically discuss the issues at hand in such a way that could end in death. But he loved his son, and something in him screamed out that Gohan _needed_ this. Still, his heart began to break as Gohan disappeared from beneath him.

Goku turned swiftly and blocked the bone crushing fist that was aimed for his midsection as Gohan re-appeared directly beside him. He crossed his arms and allowed Gohan to set the speed of the 'discussion.' His teenaged son jabbed quickly under Goku's defensive arms, trying to crack some of the ribs beneath, but his movements were jerky and awkward and easily batted to the side.

"Fight!" Gohan screamed. "It's what you live for, so show me what four years in heaven has done for you!"

Gohan's green eyes were narrowed and his jaw was taut as he clenched his teeth together, but his focus seemed to be dulled behind the extreme rage that shook his insides. Strange that in his past, his anger was his biggest asset whenever he was in danger or trying to beat whatever foe had dropped into their quiet world. This day, this fight was different. And Goku knew it.

Goku continued to block Gohan's sporadic punches, fluid and together as he always was, while his son threw himself into the fight with a blind ambition.

"Fight me!" Gohan shrieked. Goku frowned as his son's movements became frenzied and uncoordinated the angrier he became. Goku clenched his teeth and landed a powerful, open-palmed slap directly against Gohan's cheek. The strike surprised Gohan and sent him tumbling backwards a few feet away from Goku.

"As you wish," Goku whispered. His voice was soft and void of emotion as he turned his full attention onto his son. Without trying to, Goku shied away from thinking of Gohan as his son, and in his place, put Gohan as his enemy. With a scream that echoed from the house back over to tremble through the trees around them, Goku lunged for his son and punched him, his right fist digging deep into Gohan's cheek. Gohan careened down toward the earth, momentarily stunned, but he quickly recovered and phased out to appear closer to his father. He struck out, intent on doing damage to Goku's lower back, but Goku spun in mid air and back handed him.

Gohan, dizzy from the last strike, flew back up to Goku and kicked out, his booted foot missing Goku's abdomen. Goku latched onto Gohan's ankle and swung him around a couple of times before he released him. With a gasp Gohan rammed into a thick tree, and winced as his shoulder cracked painfully against the harsh bark.

He sunk down to the ground at the base of the tree and panted, ignoring the throb in his ribs as he twisted to sit on his left ankle. His right leg was bent up before him, and he leaned against his knee, staring at Goku, who floated a few hundred yards away from him in the air. Goku's teal eyes were smoldering at him in a way that sent more chills down Gohan's spine, and made him angry again.

With a muted curse, Gohan leapt into the air and shot toward where his father hung suspended. He fazed away as he reached him, but appeared again on the other side of him, his fist cracking directly into the side of his father's face, stunning him for a moment before Goku twisted and rammed his elbow into Gohan's abdomen with a vicious cry.

Gohan gasped, but did not back down. Instead, he brought his right hand up and conjured a pulsing ball of crisp energy before he shoved it into his father's chest where it exploded. Goku flew backwards from the pressure, his orange gi singed around a fist sized hole in the dead center of his chest. He had no time to inspect the damage any farther, though, as orange and gold balls of pissed off energy whizzed past his head. Silently, Goku batted away the energy balls without much effort. Gohan clenched and unclenched his fist, his cheeks and neck burning with deep anger.

_Damn! Get it together or you'll never win!_ Gohan screamed angrily to himself. He took a deep breath as if pulling himself together before he threw his weight at his father. He blocked the fist that Goku threw at his stomach as he kicked out and planted his heel directly into his father's gut. Goku gasped, momentarily winded, but he did not have the chance to recover before Gohan summoned another ball of bright energy and shoved it into Goku's face. The shock tossed him backwards like a rag doll.

Goku slowed his descent, but before he could right himself, Gohan was there. The teen locked his fingers together and brought them down hard against Goku's exposed belly. Goku flew back first toward the ground, but disappeared and reappeared directly behind Gohan, his booted foot already brought up. He landed a blunt kick to Gohan's lower back, and with a cry of pain, Gohan fell to the ground. Gohan pushed himself up out of the dirt, and winced as his body trembled from the mind-numbing pain that radiated from his back around to his sides.

It took longer for him to recover than he would have liked, but a few seconds later, he was shoving off the ground and flying directly for Goku. Goku growled and crouched down, ready for the attack. Gohan stopped mid-assault and fired off a large energy ball. The ball plowed toward Goku with deadly accuracy, but Goku merely winked out of existence. Panicked, Gohan whipped his head from one side to the other, frantically searching for his father, but Goku's ki was gone. Fright plowed through him as he replayed the scene in his mind, wondering if he had actually killed the man.

_It's just not possible,_ he thought to himself. He narrowed his eyes and calmed his breathing trying to figure out exactly where his father had gone, when the man's signature appeared directly behind him. Before he could move, white hot fire erupted along his spine. He screamed, his throat prickling with the force as he careened toward the earth. Goku appeared before him and kneed him forcefully in the abdomen, shooting him back up into the air. Gohan gasped as he felt ribs brake, but it never fully registered before a heavy elbow dug into his back and slammed him back down into the dirt. That time his scream was muffled by the soil.

Terror dug into his heart as he painfully pulled himself up out of the earth; bits of grass and dirt clung stubbornly to his gold hair as he flipped over, frantically searching for his father. He did not have to search far: Goku stood over him, his green eyes blazing out from his terrifyingly void face. Gohan gasped, feeling as if the air in his lungs was too thick for him to use.

"Enough of this," Goku whispered. Gohan met his father's eyes, forcing himself to ignore the feeling that his body was slowly going to give up on him. Goku's gaze was steady, forceful, and borderline ticked off. And it scared Gohan to death. He had never been afraid of his father before. Goku had always been the parent that would let him get away with pretty much whatever he wanted, and would try to give Gohan whatever he wanted. Chichi, although fully human, could scare Gohan to the point of wanting to bury his head in the sand, but Goku had always been safe. A happy, strong man with a core of steel; Gohan had seen evil, heartless creatures cower in fear before the very man who now stood above him. The realization did nothing to temper the deeply held anger that Gohan still had against the man, but he could not decide if he wanted to kill him or to lie down and beg the man for his forgiveness. Anger was still his ally, in the end.

"What's wrong, _Goku_?" Gohan spat. "Too much of a coward to fight for real?" Oozing redness leaked into his vision, but Gohan swiped the blood away with the back of his right hand, the skin coming away smeared with blood. Goku's eyes widened in shock at the words, his lips parting enough for him to inhale quickly, but the moment was short lived as the hardness entered his eyes again. Gohan swallowed thickly as heat prickled his eyes. Goku slowly rose into the air away from him, his eyes narrowed and his mouth stretched into a tight line, no hint of laughter etched anywhere on his face.

Words crawled into Gohan's throat, and seemed to stick as an uncomfortable—and familiar—burn started in his sinuses, warning him that tears were not far away. He swallowed again and blinked his eyes; desperately he searched for his anger, frantically trying to push himself up out of the pit he was in—both figuratively and literally. His breath had begun to heave out of his lungs in a shallow sob that _would not stop_. To make matters worse, the world had begun to pulsate and twirl in a silly dance that made him want to throw up. From above him, his father spoke and the words that reached Gohan's ears froze him where he was, the world settling down to focus solely on Goku.

"KA...ME…"

_Mkay, NOW you may send the hate mail! I want to hear what you have to say….and then I'll post the next chappie_


	20. Until My Wounds Are Healed

Chapter Twenty

"…Until My Wounds Are Healed"

-Linkin Park

On the ground, near the house, the gathering of family and friends broke out in confusion as Goku charged his signature move, aiming it for his fifteen year old son on the ground.

"What is he _doing_?" Chichi shrieked, shoving Goten at Tien before she started running for her elder son, terror and anger in equal parts on her face, but stopped as Bulma grabbed her from behind, digging her heels in to slow the woman down.

"Chichi," she groan. "You have to—oof!" Chichi had jerked backwards and caught the blue haired woman with an elbow to the stomach, surprising her enough that Bulma's grip loosened for her to pull free and continue forward, but she slammed into a wall; a green one, with a purple gi. She fell backwards, landing harshly on her rear before she glared up at Piccolo's determined face, tears beginning to edge her eyes.

"Piccolo, you have to stop this; he could hurt Gohan!" She cried. But the Namekjin shook his head, a shadow in his dark eyes that Chichi had never seen before.

"He already has," Piccolo said quietly. He glanced over his shoulder toward where Gohan crouched. "Now at least he's trying to fix it."

"What? I don't understand," the woman said, anger tinting her tone as she brushed away her tears and glared up at the tall alien. "How could killing him help him?" Two pairs of hands appeared on her upper arms and gently tugged her to her feet. She swung her gaze around and noticed Krillin beside her on one side and Yamcha on the other.

"Chichi, the kid has sort of been asking for this for a while," Krillin said softly. He patted her arm and swung his gaze around to watch the fight. "He just…didn't know it."

Chichi yanked free of the other's hands and clenched her hands tightly into fists, angry trimmers coursing through her slim frame. Her black eyes were filled with tears that splashed down her face, but she remained where she was. Piccolo turned to the side to watch his one-time enemy charge his powerful ki blast, his son—and Piccolo's own savior—the intended target, and prayed to anyone listening to intervene.

Soft, small arms wound around Chichi's waist from behind her, startling her slightly. She twisted and looked behind her to find Bird latched onto her waist, her large eyes sorrowful.

"I do not want Gohan to be hurt," she whispered. Chichi nearly crumbled at the girl's pained voice, but instead, she tugged the girl closer and pursed her lips. Krillin bit his bottom lip, his expressive eyes resting on the girl.

"I'm sure Goku knows what he's doing," the monk said, sending a reassuring half smile to the girl before he turned his attention back to the sky. Tien shuffled forward then, Goten held out at arm's length, a comical expression on his face, and handed the howling Goten back to his mother before he retreated back to where Master Roshi stood.

DBZ

Gohan was petrified. The only time that Goku had _ever_ used the Kamehameha wave against him was the one time in the Chamber of Time and Space. And then he did it only because Gohan had told him off for being too gentle with training him. His spine was iced over as he looked up at his father. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to _move_ but Gohan found that he was unable to do so. Instead, he stared at the ball of pulsating energy that his father held in cupped hands beside his right hip. The same move that Gohan had used—with his father's help—as Cell had barred down on him.

"HA….ME…."

Gohan's legs twitched as if to flee, but his gaze still rested on his father and the energy blast that was meant for him. Gohan moved his eyes to his father's face, wondering morbidly if his father had the same look on his face that Cell had. Goku's dark eyebrows were lowered over his eyes, his shoulders titled into position, and his mouth still pressed firmly into a harsh straight line, but his eyes were not right. There were tears in his father's eyes.

"HA!"

"No! Daddy, stop!" Gohan screamed, the childlike fear breaking through as his father's Kamehameha plunged directly for him. In an instant, Gohan wanted to surrender and beg for the man's forgiveness, but it was too late. Heat and a strong gust of wind howled at him where he knelt, with his arms crossed protectively over his head. Every muscle in his body was stretched taut against the coming agony that never came. Slowly, he lowered his arms, alarmed—and thrilled—that he was still alive. Before he could see straight, twin bruising grips latched onto his biceps and yanked him up and out of the ditch that he had been in and began to shake him viciously, his toes barely dragging in the dirt.

"That's enough! Do you hear what I am saying to you? NO MORE!" Gohan opened his eyes just enough to be able to see his father, face livid red with rage, and bodily shaking him. His teeth began to ache at the force with which his head whipped backwards and forwards, but the physical pain was easier to ignore than the emotional. He was not dead, after all. His father had 'pulled the punch' so to speak; that, more than the violent wrenching of his body, finally cracked the walls that had held back all of the other emotions. A strangled feeling overcame him, and he grit his teeth to fight it off, desperate to keep it at bay.

"Are you done, Gohan?" his father demanded. "Do you need me to continue? You are my son and I love you, but so help me I will finish what you started if you think you can take it!" Gohan's throat closed stubbornly against the sob that had crawled up from his chest; his eyes screwed up tight to keep the tears at bay, but the shudders that wracked his body were a dead giveaway to the emotion that lay just beneath the surface, clawing for freedom.

Goku stopped shaking Gohan and suddenly set him on his feet, the landing catching Gohan off balance. The teen was so preoccupied with his inner fight that he did not care to find out why his father had put him down. At least, not until a harsh backhand snapped his head to the side, knocked him on his rear, and made fire-hot stars erupt against his eyelids. Shocked, his eyes flew open to search out his father's face, his left hand flying to his blistered cheek.

Goku's eyes were concerned and caring, his face lined with worry as he watched his son's reaction. Behind him, Gohan heard his mother's shout before she ran into his line of vision, Bird close on her heals. He did not turn to look at her; he could not even move his head in her direction. His eyes were locked on his father's now black eyes and the unspoken love that echoed in the dark orbs released the strangled sob that was in the teen's throat. As if one sob was all it took, the tears began to flow down his cheeks as another sob hitched his chest. The tightly bound emotions broke through, releasing shuddering waves of heartache that threatened to drag him down.

Chichi skidded to a stop a few feet behind Goku, her mouth popping open in surprise at the sight of her eldest son, sitting on the ground with tears dripping off of his chin. Behind her, more of their friends appeared, and though Gohan tried, he could not stem the flow of moist, humiliating heat that rolled down his red cheeks. Instead, he gave in to his humiliation and dropped his eyes away from his father to rest his chin on his chest, shame rolling off of him as he caught sight of Piccolo's face. Miserable, he brought both hands up to cover his ears, hoping that not being able to hear anything would make his reality go away.

_**You're going to be okay now, kid**_.

Surprised, Gohan brought his eyes up just as Goku knelt before him and rested his left hand on Gohan's shoulder. He caught Piccolo's gaze a second before Goku's Instant Transmission winked them into oblivion, but it was a good enough glance to note the relief on his mentor's face.

DBZ

When Gohan blinked again, he sat in the grass, somewhere on a hill side with the stars up above them twinkling in innocence. Goku knelt before him, his hand still on his child's shoulder, his eyes still filled with an emotion that Gohan could not name. Not even the sudden change in scenery could stop the flow of his tears, or the painful, racking sobs that jerked out of his chest. And he hated it. Every single moment, he hated it, but was unable to stop. So he dropped his head into his hands and allowed the tears to come, not even hearing Goku when he spoke. Warm hands wrapped around his wrists and tugged them away from his face and Goku swam into view.

"You need a Senzu bean, son," Goku murmured. Blearily, Gohan looked down as Goku brought his right hand up to reveal the magical bean held between his forefinger and thumb. Childlike, Gohan allowed his father to deposit the bean into his mouth, the tangy legume mixing headily with the tears as he swallowed. Gohan shook his head, desperate to reign in his emotions and the visual display of his years of grief. He bit his lip as he dropped both of his hands to the ground, his fingertips digging into the earth and forcefully crushing it to bits in his palms.

"Gohan," Goku said. Gohan's eyes remained tightly shut, as if the teen did not even hear him. Goku reached both of his hands up and placed them firmly on his child's shoulders. "Gohan, stop holding back."

"I _can't_ let this happen!" Gohan cried. He snapped open his wet eyes and tried to focus blurry eyes on the man before him. A sob rose to the surface, but Gohan swallowed hard and continued, frantic to have his father want him again. "I was stupid; I let him win…I...I let him regenerate! I let him take you…"

"I'm so sorry _I failed_!" he sobbed, the thoughts that had tormented his dreams and waking moments were tinged dark and heavy as they left his lungs. His words were thick and almost unintelligible, but the mere pleading to his voice tore Goku's heart almost in two. Without another word, Goku grabbed his son and clutched him tightly against his chest; tears of his own mingled with thick strands of his son's black hair. He finally understood what he had done.

"Shh," he whispered. "I'm here. I love you and I'm here."

Gohan seemed to fall apart then, as if Goku had given him the permission he needed to release the pent up rage and other emotions that he had been stubbornly harboring for four years. Rational thought was beyond him as grief ripped across his consciousness, and his only anchor—the only thing that kept him bound to the moment—was the strong heartbeat and reassuring arms that belonged to Son Goku. He tried to speak, tried to make his father understand how _sorry_ he was, but the words would not come out right. Finally, he stopped trying.

Goku was completely lost. As he tightly clutched the semi-hysterical teen to his chest, he whispered words of assurance into his ear, but was not sure how much the child actually caught. The Saiyajin wanted so much to go back and fix things; make it to where his son never felt the way that he did, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was loved and that he had done the best he could. The front of Goku's gi was slowly becoming damp, but Goku ignored it and simply sat there, his arms wrapped around Gohan as he cried himself empty.

After about fifteen minutes, Gohan's sobs lessened, while his breathing evened out. Goku tilted his head and looked at the top of Gohan's head as he ran a hand up and down the teen's back. Gohan arched his back, stiffening against his touch. Goku paused, curious, but before he could comment, Gohan relaxed again and turned his head to the side, resting his right ear against his father's chest. His shoulders rose evenly now, without the hint of the emotional upheaval of a bare few minutes ago.

"Gohan, you know I don't blame you for anything," Goku said. Gohan tensed in response. "You did the very best that you could." Goku tightened his arms, worried that he was not saying the right thing, but Gohan remained silent.

"If anyone is to blame, Gohan, it's Cell. He came into our world to destroy us; be angry with him." Gohan tried to straighten away from Goku, but the Saiyajin refused to let him go.

"But if you can't see it that way…then be angry with me." Gohan stilled and relaxed again. Goku tilted his head to the side and looked down; he could see Gohan's eyes were open due to the long dark lashes that blinked against his cheeks, but he was not in the position to see the emotion behind the eyes.

"I know that you have been angry with me, Gohan," Goku whispered. "I know you felt that I left you because you did something wrong, but that was never my intent." Goku pulled away and held Gohan away from his chest to look into his face. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me!"

Gohan's dark eyes were dull, and lacked the mirror quality that made them easy to read into, and the realization startled Goku. Gohan had always bounced back; he had always been the happy little boy that not even Vegeta could bring down.

"Did you know that, Gohan?" The teen dropped his eyes to the side and nodded, but it was not an agreement, merely a reflex. Goku sighed and narrowed his eyes. He was very thrilled that he was no longer dead, because this was going to take a lot longer to correct than he thought. He reached up and shoved his hand through his hair, confused and frustrated. He loved Gohan…he loved Goten now that he had met him. It was a huge part of why he fought the way he did.

_Okay…I think I've broken him, but now I don't know how to fix him_! Goku thought. He could feel the teen withdrawing from the situation, though, and it worried him. Goku grabbed Gohan's shoulders again.

"Gohan, say something. Scream at me if you still have something to say, just…say it." Goku's eyebrows were pulled low over his eyes as he watched Gohan, but the kid remained silent. His eyes seemed drawn to the grass at Goku's knee instead.

Goku sighed again and glanced at Gohan's gi. The dark blue material was blown to bits across his chest with several tears along his back and knees. Goku's own orange gi did not look any better.

"Gohan, I'll be right back, I'm going to get you and me a new set of clothes; are you okay if I leave you here?" Gohan finally raised his eyes and gave his father such a severe look that Goku nearly chuckled at the obvious statement behind those dark eyes: 'Yeah, I'm not a child, Dad!' Affectionately, Goku combed his fingers through Gohan's hair, absently brushing up against the teen's cheeks. Gohan closed his eyes and held his breath.

"I'll be back," Goku whispered and then he was gone. Gohan felt the familiar burn of emotion behind his eyes as he sat there, and cringed as he felt another drop of moister leak out from his eyes and start down his cheek. Amazed, he brushed it away with his fingertips. He was surprised that he had _any_ tears left to cry after he had bawled like a baby. Gohan tucked his arms tightly around his waist and brought his knees up to rest his forehead against them, trying to still the last remnants of his chills.

He felt confused as to a course of action. Goku _said_ that it was not Gohan's fault, and Gohan had to admit that some part of him _knew_ that, but he could not seem to stop blaming himself. Funny how moments before, Gohan was able to view his father as the object of his disgust, although he still felt that Goku had let him down, he also knew that he desperately wanted his forgiveness. It was so very confusing.

Now that the wall had been shattered, the teen felt raw, as if having so much emotion burst forth as it had had left him jagged and wide open, and unprotected. He did not like it. As ludicrous as it seemed, Gohan was not sure if he trusted his dad not to leave again. He was a trusting person, naturally, one of the reasons that he and Piccolo had the friendship that they did, but after having lived in his own personal hell for four years, Gohan was not sure if he was up to going back to how it used to be.

But he also did not want to give the man a reason to leave. Gohan was already cracked; he had already let his emotions loose, but he still held a few things close to his heart. He still did not want to be on his own again. With a deep sigh, Gohan tilted his head to the side and looked up at the stars. His throat hurt, his head throbbed, and his eyes were itchy and tired, but mostly, he was simply exhausted. Even though he had slept for hours the previous day, he was still tired.

_I wonder if he's coming back_, Gohan thought to himself. The thought surprised him, sending a deep echo reverberating around his chest. The teen shivered and tightened his arms around his waist, but the chill had not so much to do with the air, but the emotion that still stirred within him.

"Gohan." The teen was too sleepy to even be surprised by the soft voice that spoke from directly beside him, but he did raise his head obediently. Goku knelt beside him, while Piccolo stood behind his father. Goku rested a hand on Gohan's shoulder. "Son, Piccolo is going to fix our clothes. I was just going to bring us more, but Piccolo suggested this instead."

Gohan remained silent as his father tugged him to his feet, and kept a firm grip on him as he stood before Piccolo. The Namekjin stayed quiet, a reserved expression on his face as he raised his hand toward the teen. A flash of light later and the teen was redressed in his dark blue gi, while his father's gi appeared as good as new. Slowly, Piccolo dropped his hand to his side, his dark eyes mere sparks in the darkness surrounding them. Goku moved closer to Gohan as the teen swayed where he stood.

"Gohan, you and I are going to go away for a while, okay?" Goku's eyebrows pulled down over his eyes as he squinted to see the teen through the darkness. Gohan remained silent, unsure of how to speak again; his thoughts rattled and swam in confusing circles in his head.

_**Gohan,**_ Piccolo's calm presence whispered against the thundering storm in Gohan's mind. _**You're confused right now, but you have to trust your dad; he'll take care of you.**_

Gohan sighed and shut his eyes, twin streams of moist heat making their way down his cheeks and catching the light from the stars. Goku exchanged a look with Piccolo as the tall alien silently moved farther away, but Gohan's soft voice stopped him.

"You were right," Gohan whispered. Piccolo turned around to face him again, curious. Gohan's eye remained shut, his voice low and shallow. "I lost."

"No, Kid, you won this time," Piccolo replied. Gohan's eyelids wrinkled as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut against another wave of misery.

_**I'll be around, Gohan**_. The calm brush against his subconscious soothed the ache in his chest, but briefly. And then Piccolo's ki rose and slowly disappeared. Goku tugged gently on his arm.

"Come on, son, let's go find a good place to spend the night," Goku said quietly. He pulled the teenager up and draped an arm around his shoulder, drawing him into the air, the dark velvety blackness the backdrop as the father and son blazed brilliantly across the night sky.

_AN: To all those who have read/reviewed/stuck with this story—THANK YOU! This is by no means the end, merely the beginning chapter of a story that has haunted my dreams for nearly ten years. _

_I began writing this because it bothered me that Goku chose to leave and then the series just picked up with Gohan as a teenager. I wanted to see what would have happened if Gohan didn't bounce back… just once. His character is such that he wants to please people, but this felt like it would have been a game changer to me, so I decided to explore it. _

_One of you mentioned that I deviated away from the other aspects of the story and focused more on Gohan and Goku—you're correct, I did. And I did it on purpose because __**Gohan**__ was focused so in that way. I felt that it was so obscuring that HE wouldn't have seen something coming if it waved flags and blew off fireworks! _

_I am total pants at replying directly to each review, but I appreciate each of them! Thank you for any suggestions/comments/ corrections/ and positively uplifting praise! I wrote this for myself, so it is very humbling that so many of you are enjoying, too!_

_Blood Lies: Retributions is up on my page…go check it out and let me know what you think! ^_^_


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